The Wraithen Threat
by OrlithNightfire
Summary: This is a RPG turned novel from Eidos forum. this was edited by Wraithstar, a fellow player. so i thought i would host it for her. Set in the time between Blood Omen and Bood omen 2. so Kain still slumbers after being killed by the Sarafan Lord. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_The Wraithen Threat_

The novel version of RP2, originally posted on the Eidos Legacy of Kain forums

Contributed to by, in order of appearance:

Colder-Than-Ice (Izael)

Steele (Lukien)

Angel of Music (Luciano the barkeeper)

HolyMoses (Lent)

Veronica Ma (Kour)

DarkWraith (Novanus)

LOK kain is the greatest (Lessa)

Janos of Uschtenheim (Abel)

WraithStar (Jessie)

Edited by WraithStar

Disclaimer:We do not own legacy of kain. it is owned by Chrystal Dynamics and Eidos. but the chraters are our own.

A Seemingly Innocent Beginning

Izael was a fairly young man who had not yet seen very much action. He was an expert swordsman, preferring to use his magical long-sword and shield that had passed on through his family line to him. His once royal family had all fallen victim to pestilence, leaving him as the last member. He was still searching for his place in the world. His will to do good led him to join the Sarafan.

Izael walked out from the Sarafan headquarters in his shiny new armor. Singing a song he slowly walked to his guard post at the docks (he had hoped for something better, like hunting the cursed vampires, but the local commander said that he was far too young and inexperienced). Izael was watching the sun setting into the sea when he suddenly heard a scream from a house nearby.

The vampire Lukien smiled as he felt the human's life blood course down his throat, exciting him. It was over quickly and he tossed the drained mortal unto the ground before going after the other one, a woman, who was screaming her head off. With a contemptuous snort, he yanked the human to him through telekinesis and drank her life's blood too. He usually didn't take such bold feasts so close to Sarafan strongholds, but he was hungry and hadn't eaten for days.

Izael kicked the door open. His face became pale when he saw what was inside. Raising his sword and shield, Izael steeled himself and prepared to sell his life while yelling for help. But then he remembered that there was a guard-post nearby. There should be four elite knights ready all the time if something like this happened. Izael decided to make a run for it, and threw a nearby barrel at the vampire while running for his life.

Lukien laughed as the young Sarafan Warrior ran from the house, knocking the barrel away with his mind. Why were these Sarafan so determined to wipe his kind out? The answer eluded him. Shrugging, he unsheathed his heavy broadsword and made his way outside. In the distance, he could see the Sarafan Warrior returning, this time with four trained knights with him. He smiled. This was going to be fun.

Izael watched in horror as the vampire kept laughing while it killed all the knights with but a gesture of its hand. How could he ever win against such a creature? He decided that he must try, for the sake of all who lived in this city. All hope had died in his heart as he charged the creature. "Die undead monstrosity!" And he had wanted to hunt these creatures... What a fool he had been.

In the middle of the young Sarafan Warrior's charge, Lukien felt something tug at the back of his mind. _Lukien, I'm in troub-- _His momentary lapse allowed the Warrior to get close enough and bring his blade slicing straight down—right for his head. Lukien just barely managed to get out of the way, his super-human reflexes saving him. Realizing he had to get to his friend, he used his mind to trip the Sarafan Warrior and then he dissolved into a swarm of bats, hoping he would be able to help his friend in time.

Izael rose slowly back to his feet, panting heavily. Then he started laughing as the tension released. He had nearly killed the vampire and it had run away! He had defeated the vampire and saved his people! Proud, Izael decided go to have a drink at the local pub before filing a report back at the HQ. Slowly he started walking down the street, stepping over the bodies of his fallen comrades. He was just too damn exhausted to give them a proper burial right now.

Izael walked into Luciano's Tavern, which was now open for business. Luciano wiped the bar and asked, "What'll it be young man? I've got the best stouts in town. Or maybe an ale?" Izael sat down. "The finest thing you have. So, any rumors around?"

"The finest you say? The Sarafan must be doling out combat pay. You appear to have been engaged in some exercise, young Angel of Light." Luciano poured a drink from an ornate bottle. "Here you are. Said to have been Ottmar's favorite brandy. Enjoy. I did hear a man speak earlier today about a strange winged creature. Probably too much to drink. Creatures like what he described are unheard of in these enlightened days. Better left to the myths and superstitions of old."

Lukien arrived in the middle of Meridian just in time. His friend, a newly-made vampire by the name of Kraz, was surrounded by a good dozen Sarafan Warriors. Acting instinctively, Lukien yanked two of the Warriors to him through TK, tossing them against the wall behind him easily. He then moved forward as quickly as a snake, unsheathing his broadsword as he did so. With an almost lazy backhand, he decapitated a Warrior and watched him fall to the ground, blood spurting from his neck in a red fountain. The other Warriors, realizing they had a threat in the rear, immediately turned to face him, and Lukien easily dispatched two more with lighting-fast strokes. Kraz took advantage of the Sarafan Warrior's sudden oversight and took down three with his deadly claws. It was a simple matter for Lukien to drop the rest. Lukien was about to ask Kraz what he was doing, but he was cut off. "Lukien," Kraz breathed. "I've dire news..."

Back in the bar, Izael finished his drink and said, "Actually, I just fought with a vampire today. Right now I'm ready to believe anything. But hey, I better get going, I gotta file a report back at the HQ." He tossed a few coins at the barkeeper before leaving.

Luciano scooped the coins up from bar and replied, "Much obliged, warrior. Be wary this night. More than a few of my customers have disappeared as of late. Perhaps you could mention this to your superiors, and have them pursue an investigation into the matter? Vampires or not, something is happening to my customers." "Will do, mate."   
Izael walked into the HQ and reported to his sergeant. He also told what the barkeeper said and requested permission to investigate this matter himself. What he got was an order, "STICK TO YOUR GUARD-POST AND STAY THERE!" and so he walked disappointed back to the docks. It was getting cold and a mist was slowly creeping in from sea. Clouds covered the stars, Izael's torch being the only light in the area. Everything seemed quite. Little did Izael know that his earlier encounter with the vampire was just the beginning.

Enter Gadorian…

Gadorian was a rather old vampire that could still pass for human when he wanted to. He slowly crept through the darkness under the docks, carefully avoiding the puddles of water. He slunk closer and closer to his prey: a peasant woman washing her clothes in the water. His fangs protruded and his throat quivered in anticipation of his soon-to-be meal. With speed that seemed to rend the very air, Gadorian was upon his victim. He clasped his hand over her mouth to prevent her from letting out any cry of help before whispering seductively into her ear, "Shhh...don't worry. I promise to make it quick." His fangs pierced her flesh as if it was air, and he immediately found her jugular.  
Gadorian let the body slump towards the ocean, letting the waves hide the corpse for him. His attention then turned to the docks above him - in his concentration on hunting, he failed to notice the Sarafan that approached above. Foolish! What if the young warrior should find the body before it washed away?

Gadorian stealthily ascended the stairs up to the top of the dock. He saw his possible enemy watching the ocean pensively. Perhaps he could distract him, lead him away from the docks? Yes, then by the time the body was found the vampire could be long since departed, if necessary. Unnoticed, he approached the Sarafan until he was inches behind his head. "It's dangerous to be out this late at night, even for a Sarafan."  
The youth whirled about, his torch nearly going out from the sudden movement, clearly startled by the stranger. Quickly regaining his composure, he began to reply to the mysterious apparition, who seemed to somehow appear on the deserted dock without his knowing...

Izael recovered his composure and responded, "Yeah, that's what I tried to explain to my sarge, and as you can see, didn't help much." He turned his back to the stranger and spat into the water. "Hey, what's that? A body? Has that vampire returned? Hmmh, I was just wondering what happened to my fallen comrades...where their bodies disappeared to."

Curses! Gadorian stood nervously behind the guard. Foolish boy, turning his back like that. The vampire readied his claws and prepared to lay waste to this little nuisance. Something stayed his hand, however. A peasant was nothing, many died every day and the nobility hardly noticed or cared. But a Sarafan? The deaths of the other knights earlier that day could be attributed to the fleeing vampire, but as he was seen flying away from the city in bat form, any more bloodshed could not be blamed on him. Gadorian surely didn't need the food, and he loathed killing humans when it wasn't necessary...it seemed a little discretion would be the best course of action.  
Focusing arcane power, the vampire pierced the mind of the warrior. His magic sought to seek control of the man's consciousness. It soon became clear that the knight's mind was too strong to be entirely conquered, but it was also not altogether immune. "Body? Ha! What body?" The pair peered over the dock nervously. Gadorian's eyes were set on the corpse as he prayed the enchantment would hold.

The Sarafan searched the beach, but could not find what had caught his attention the moment before. He stepped back and shook his head in confusion. "Seems like you've had a little too much ale tonight, boy. Come on, let's get you home." Only a wry smile crept its way outside onto Gadorian's face, but inside he was caught in a maelstrom of laughter. What would the Sarafan think if he knew he had just befriended a vampire?

"Home? Sorry sir, I'm on duty. No ale clouding my vision, there WAS a body. But it has disappeared. Or perhaps I'm just seeing things, after all, I've already seen much blood running today. Not going home for hours, nope, but I sure would enjoy company. Tell me, who are you and how did you manage to sneak me up from behind?"

"Name's Malien. Pleased to meet you." Gadorian raised one eyebrow and with a mischievous half-smile, reached out his hand. "I'm new to these parts, but then, I'm new to most parts. I'm a...collector...of artifacts, trinkets, armor...weapons. That sword you have there is quite handsome. I haven't seen many like it before. Those runes etched into the blade...it's filled with quite powerful magic, is it not?" Gadorian eyed the sword curiously. It seemed so familiar, but from where?  
"As for sneaking up on you, I apologize for that. The mist is so thick I didn't even know you were here until I was just upon you. Perhaps that's what you saw under the dock? My eyes are keener than any, and I saw nothing more than waves." The Sarafan tried to get out "But I kn.." before Gadorian cut him off. "Bodies? And the murder of your brother knights? Why, does this city think of nothing else but death? Let us talk about something more pleasant. Why, you haven't even told me your name!"

"Ah, I apologize for my rude manners, sir. I'm really not myself today. My name is Izael," he bowed. "My sword has passed on in our family for generations, and it is said to be very powerful. I just don't know what it can do. You said you know something about magical items? Can you analyze this sword?"

The answer became immediately clear. The sword wasn't familiar because he had seen others like it. The weapon was clearly one of a kind. Gadorian had seen this sword before. Perhaps in time he would remember his previous encounter with the weapon. He shuddered to think he may have been the murderer of one of this boy's ancestors; he was just beginning to like him.  
Gadorian took the blade into his hands, "Look here, at the design of the hilt - it was clearly forged by the Serioli. I've seen many of their weapons before, but I can't recall any made of a metal resembling this one. The origins of the runes, too, elude me. See how the style changes from the runes closer to the hilt to those towards the tip? Why, there's the Sarafan emblem, but it appears only halfway down the blade - this sword predates your order's founding. It's clear the sword has been enchanted and re-enchanted many, many times. I wouldn't be surprised to learn it had been cursed a few times as well. Of course any hexes on it have long since been lifted. Much of its power seems to be contained deep within the blade - it takes a skilled user to evoke its full potential. As your power grows, so the blade's will grow with you."  
As Gadorian spoke, the sword began to glow, brighter and brighter the longer he held it. Gadorian prayed the knight was focused enough on his speech not to take note of the growing aura about the weapon. Nervously, he thrust it back into Izael's hands. "Take good care of it. No doubt, it can take good care of you"

Unfortunately, Izael had indeed noticed the glow of his sword. Looking away from Malien he struggled to keep his face calm. Was he really befriending a vampire? How could that be? Was this vampire the one he had defeated earlier, coming back to take its revenge? Or what was this? The vampire had looked honest, perhaps it had changed its mind? Or was it simply trying to use him as its pawn? Sighing deeply, Izael turned to face what he thought was certain death. However, his face told everything and Gadorian knew his cover was blown even before the young Sarafan had said a word.

The hairs on Izael's neck stood on end as Gadorian let out a maniacal laugh.   
"Well, at least I don't need to keep track of the fake name anymore," Gadorian thought. The Sarafan boldly lunged forward and struck the vampire with all his might, but the blade had no effect. Gadorian lifted his hand toward the sword, and in an instant it was engulfed in white ethereal flame. Izael dropped the weapon in shock. "How could you ever dare to try to harm me with that weapon? See who the blade obeys?"  
Even unarmed, Izael stood steadfast before the vampire. Gadorian lifted a particularly menacing shard of wood from the dock using telekinesis. Gadorian knew he could kill the Sarafan if he had wanted, but didn't. What mattered to him was that Izael knew it as well. The wound would scar, but in a few weeks that would be the only reminder that it had ever happened. Gadorian casually walked away from the dock and into the night, leaving the Sarafan, impaled through the shoulder and nailed to the dock, the sword lying by his side. Someone would find him in the morning, he was sure.

Izael struggled, his face a mask of pain. "No, it cannot end like this... I... need... answers." With great effort, Izael managed to free himself. He stood there, bleeding, waiting for his head to clear. When the pain lifted, he slowly took up his sword and took few steps into the night. "Vampire! I do not want to harm you... I want...answers...what is this sword? You seem to know more than you reveal. I know you do not want to kill me! Come back! Hear me!"   
Suddenly the pain returned, and Izael almost fell on his knees. Gritting his teeth, Izael leaned onto a fence, looking into the black water of the docks. However, the fence suddenly broke and Izael fell over it into the water with a mighty SPLOOSH. Gadorian nearly turned back at hearing Izael crash into the water. If anyone could swim in full armor, though, it was a Sarafan. Even so, the tide would wash him up. And what use would a vampire be so near to water? No, the boy was not yet ready, Gadorian would return to him again when he was. The boy, yes, it was the boy who wasn't ready. Gadorian was prepared for everything...He had to keep telling himself that.   
Gadorian couldn't return to Izael before he was sure. His memories had always been shaky, but what little detail they offered had never been deceptive. Not that he could remember. So he couldn't place his trust in his memory, but he had sturdier evidence, too. The vampire stalked across the street, clutching his chest where a glowing symbol had appeared over his heart. The symbol created a sharp sensation, although it was not quite pain. It had been dormant for years, but had burned anew the instant he laid his hands on the sword. The same rune burned just as brightly, just above the hilt of the blade...  
Gadorian needed some escape from the events of the night. He needed some distraction, some way to forget, if only for a moment. He needed—to feed.


	2. Chapter 2

Shady Business

Lent was a tall human with red braided hair. The tattoo advertising his allegiance to vampires was hidden beneath the sleeve of his clothing. Lent walked into the pub, and stood before the barkeep. He asked for a pint. Luciano wiped the bar and replied, "A pint, stranger? What's your pleasure, ale or stout?" Lent answered, "Ale please," and threw a few coins on the counter. Lent then looked at the bartender and said, "Foggy night out tonight. You've got to be careful where you step or you might fall in the water. Dangerous for those who don't swim."  
Lent came to this pub with an agenda. He was instructed by his master to meet someone here to pick up some ancient artifact that had been smuggled in. Whether his contact was human or vampire, Lent didn't know. He had always been cautious about meeting vampires that weren't coven to his ancient master. "A servant can always make for an easy meal," his father told him. "You must be on your guard when around other vampires." Despite being a vampire worshiper, his life belonged only to his master.  
He had never met his master personally, nor had his father before him, and so on for generations. His instructions were always given telepathically, "Get a victim and bring it here. Go fetch this; kill this person and bring me their heart." All he had of his master was a picture of a winged figure with blue skin. "Easy enough to spot," Lent said to himself when his father first described the master; but none of his family had seen their master for generations. It was only in the past few decades that his family started receiving orders again, but there was no question they were coming from the master. The orders would come in a voice and call to him, "Lent, descendant of Vorador, I command you..." Only his family and his master knew that he was kin to Vorador. He doubted even the ancient vampire would know, if he were still alive.  
Lent looked around the pub and sipped his ale. The place was empty, and he didn't like it. It made him uneasy, and the bartender was too busy counting his money to pay attention. "Something is going to happen," his instincts told him. "Soon."

The bartender's voice intruded, "You seem anxious this night, stranger. Something troubling you? Another ale to ease your nerves? Believe me, I have heard them all over this bar. Money problems, women problems, ... Sarafan problems. They don't seem to be popular as of late. From what I hear, some of them have been harassing the locals more than they have been killing vampires. But then again, when vampires become scarce ... they have to occupy themselves somehow."

The sound of the pelting rain grew stronger as the door to the bar opened. Kour stepped in, tilting his head slightly to clear the entranceway, and he paused as the door closed behind him. Without the slightest of movements and towering over all, his eyes panned the room and the mood turned silent. He made his way to the bar and took a seat.   
"Forgive my intrusion. I am looking for the one called Lent." Kour had silver hair, tied back in a pony-tail, and he wore black leather. There was a silver gauntlet on his left arm; the cuff was carved with the insignia of the underground religion worshipping Kain, although no one else would know that.

Gadorian stalked the pitch black alleyways of the city—it would be difficult to find any meal this late at night. He had other concerns as well—morning was fast approaching. While Gadorian could certainly survive a day in the sun, it wouldn't exactly be...pleasant. And then he saw him. Half asleep and leaning against the wall was a Sarafan night-watchman. He was pleased to find that the Sarafan was carrying the past week's pay. Gadorian approached his quarry and ended him as quickly as he had found him. Now for sanctuary from the ever-approaching sun...somewhere dark, small, and quiet. He had a small dwelling in the city where he stored all the possessions he couldn't carry on his person, but he would not be able to make it back there before the rising sun. 'What's that? A bar? Surely they have rooms for rent,' he thought.  
Gadorian stepped into the pub and was nearly blinded by the torch light. Yes, this place would be perfect. The bar was quiet, almost deserted. He saw only the barkeep and a few other patrons. Gadorian set down a pile of coin on the bar - easily three times what any room in this place could possibly cost. "Barkeep...I need a room. The tip is to ensure I remain...undisturbed. And a drink, the strongest you've got." Gadorian decided to wait out the rest of the night in the bar, and not go to his room till morning did finally arrive. He never was much of a sleeper...

Izael didn't know how long he had lain on the beach unconscious. When he looked around him, he saw the sun rising. His duty had ended. He had to report to the HQ quickly. Soaking wet he walked through the docks to the mighty cathedral. Entering his room, he quickly changed his armor to a clean and (above all) dry alba and went into the great hall where morning prayers were on their way.  
Almost an hour later Izael walked back to the pub. He needed to relax a while and think about everything that had happened. He could then sleep the rest of the day. He entered and said, "Hello again. Give me the best you've got, this time double. I've got a lot of things to think about."

Lent, finishing his conversation with the bartender, said, "Thanks for the sympathetic thought, but I'll not bore you," and he flicked the bartender another coin. He then stood up and motioned to Kour to follow, just as the Sarafan guard walked in. Both took a deep breath, pulled their hoods down, and walked to a booth. Lent walked past the vampire and gave him an extra long look. "Seems our vampire visitor is attracting company," Lent thought, "I hope he's not seriously thinking about sleeping here." Looking the vampire over, he seemed old, and powerful. Not too good at dealing with humans on a personal level. Vampires always over pay and over tip for everything, but Lent knew that money didn't always buy cooperation. Still, the pub was safe, unless you were the Sarafan guard. The guard looked young, and pure. The sort of purity that a guard loses after signing on for two weeks, this one was definitely new. Lent was careful not to look at the guard too much. "Young Sarafan are often ambitious," Lent thought, "Best not to attract attention."  
The two men sat across from each other at the pub. Kour showed the symbol on his cuff, and Lent replied by showing his tattoo. Kour did a little hand gesture and the surrounding lights dimmed slightly. "Cleaver trick," Lent thought. "Do you have it?" Lent asked without looking directly at the mysterious person. Without uttering a word, Kour panned the room and without warning invaded Lent's thoughts. "It is not safe here. Take the road north of the Pillars to Nachtholm. Wait at the bottom of the bridge by nightfall tomorrow. There, you will receive further instructions."  
As Kour lifted from his chair, he thought, "You may consider staying here a while." He motioned to the next table. "Your old vampire friend may need your assistance." As he reached for the door, head down, he turned slightly and thought, "Clever trick, indeed. We will need more than clever tricks, my friend."

The barkeep, oblivious, was dealing with the vampire at the bar. "I'll ask no questions, stranger. Your donation to my business is appreciated. Up the stairs and down the right hall. Room 207." He tossed the key onto the bar, "and take this, on the house." He poured a tall glass of ale. "One word of advice, my patron, it is not wise to toss the emperor's gold about so carelessly. There have been many well dressed carcasses found lately missing their purses. And a favor if you will... send some business this way. You look like one who has many friends... or employees..." Luciano returned to minding the bar.

Lent watched the stranger Kour leave. He hated to have his thoughts read, but there was nothing he could do about it. He knew his thoughts were out there for those to read, and he had not the knowledge to block them. Nachtholm was a long way from Freeport, he could cut across the Termogent Forest to save himself some time. With his route decided, Lent stood up and started to get on his way. He hated to feel rushed, so this way he could take his time.  
He watched the vampire go to his room, and shrugged. "I suppose he knows what he's doing," Lent thought, and then started on his way. He had a long way to travel, and with no horse, it would be a tiring trip. He had to reach Nachtholm by night.

From a nearby alley, two figures in the shadows watched as Lent left the bar. "Patience is not for the young, is it, my lord?" "No Orugarde, it is not. Please follow him. Make sure he arrives safe." "Yes, my lord." And with that, Orugarde set out for Termogent Forest. Turning into the dark alley, Kour walked into the black and vanished.


	3. Chapter 3

Curiosity Leads to Adventure

Gadorian sat idly in his room, waiting for the day to pass. It seemed he was discovered by everyone in the bar except the Sarafan. Still, these people knew to leave well enough alone, and, at least for know, Gadorian decided he would do them the same favor. Gadorian's keen abilities had picked up on the entire telepathic conversation that had gone on between the two visitors - Kour and Lent, were they? - but at first he was not interested in what had been said. A few more hours of contemplation in his room, however, and he could not contain his curiosity. When night came, he would go to Termogent Forest and follow Lent. Most other vampires were far more patient and cautious, but most other vampires had at least something to lose. If nothing else, the journey should prove to be interesting. He would return to his Sarafan friend once he had concluded this trip, if he returned...   
The vampire-worshipper would no doubt attract some sort of unwanted attention, for while their kind certainly was much more formidable than the typical human, they simply lacked the affinity for stealth that may only come to those not entirely alive.

Lent hiked through the forest, and was making great time. "Perhaps a rest is in order," he thought as he leaned against a wall. Lent then turned to inspect the wall and realized it was the outer rim of Vorador's Mansion, long abandoned since Moebius' cutthroats desecrated it. He tied a line to an axe and tossed it over the wall. The axe caught and Lent climbed over. He had always wanted to see the home of his ancestor, and though he knew there would be nothing useful inside, he went anyways. The towering columns outside had long since fallen, and the stone court yard was now covered with weeds and mud. Lent noted that the door was blasted shut. All that remained was his family's ancient crest, but he would probably be the only one who would recognize it.  
Lent's bloodline had been wiped out through persecution of the Sarafan and Moebius' mercenaries. He was the last member, which gave him plenty of orders to follow and responsibilities to carry out. One of his responsibilities, he felt, was to father a child. Should something happen to him, his master would be left without any servants. Still, Lent hated the idea of bringing a child into this world while the Sarafan ruled it.  
A twig snapped beyond the wall, and Lent realized someone was on the other side. "Could they have followed me?" Lent decided not to think about it. This person might read his thoughts as well. He grabbed his things and hurried to the other side of the mansion, and noticed the gate had been broken open. He left through this gate, and continued on his way to Nachtholm, careful to leave as little of a trail as possible.

Night fell, and Gadorian flew in bat form to the Black Forest of Termogent. Just as he had suspected - the vampire-worshipper's departure had alerted a squad of Sarafan to his trail. They had followed Lent without much incident, but upon seeing him enter the abandoned mansion of Vorador, they knew they had to apprehend this cloaked man. The Sarafan seemed like they were novices not long ago, although they did manage to evade detection by Lent, until now. No matter how skilled the vampire-worshipper may be, no single man could possibly stand a chance against an entire squad of trained Sarafan.  
The knights prepared for an ambush, but had no idea it was they who were about to be surprised. As the Sarafan leaped out to overcome their target, Gadorian lunged down, killing one of them. Lent whirled about. He swung one of his axes and in a single strike severed the head clean off of another knight. Gadorian grabbed another by the throat and drained him of all his blood before he could make any sort of protest. As he was finishing his meal, another Sarafan lodged his sword in Gadorian's shoulder - a fatal mistake. The vampire thrust his open hand into the knight's stomach and up under his sternum, and pulled out his still beating heart. Throughout this display Lent had dispatched the final warrior with a throwing dagger to the eye. The two stood silent for a moment - Lent panting, and Gadorian holding back a small chuckle.  
"Why," Lent puffed while catching his breath, "did you follow me?" Lent forced the words out while still keeping a firm grip on his weapons. Gadorian replied with a bloodstained grin, "Oh come now, I had nothing better to do and was looking for some entertainment. Besides, it's a good thing I did follow you. You looked like you needed the help." Gadorian stood - still smiling demonically - and awaited Lent's reply.

Lent bowed respectfully, not taking his eyes off of the vampire and keeping his axes handy. "I thank you, Dark Lord, for your assistance." Lent recognized him from the pub earlier that day. "Forgive my rudeness, but I'm late. I must hurry, or my master will be very displeased with me. Perhaps we'll meet again." Lent left before the vampire had a chance to respond. He didn't expect the Sarafan to be following him, nor did he expect that vampire to aid him. "He must be bored," Lent thought, and wondered how many more were following him. Running through the forest as fast as he could Lent recalled he only heard one set of steps outside Vorador's abandoned mansion. Someone else was on his tail, but he couldn't tell who. "Not the Sarafan, and surely not the vampire from before." He had no choice but to try and out run the one who dogged his shadow.  
Lent ran through the clearing of the forest, and reached Nachtholm an hour later. His muscles ached from his mad dash. "I surely hope this artifact is worth all this effort," and he wondered, "What is it that I'm suppose to acquire that is attracting so much attention?" Whatever it was, Lent hoped to find the answer soon. He stopped at a creek, filled up his water canteen, and then cooled the back of his neck. Looking up he could see a shadowy figure under the bridge. "Well, I guess that's my contact." Approaching the bridge, Lent didn't speak, he didn't think either. He waited to see if this shadowy figure knew who he was. He stood before him and the figure spoke...

Gadorian was offended - and intrigued - by the hasty departure of Lent. There was now no way he could possibly resist pursuit, even if only to settle the score. The vampire-worshipper had blown him off after he had taken out three of his would-be assailants. Surely, the show would be exquisite once Lent reached his destination.  
Gadorian reached Nachtolm and focused his energy. He became first mist, and then with a further force of will melded himself to the very shadows themselves. He would be entirely undetectable, even by the eldest of creatures. He watched Lent and waited for the drama to unfold...

"Tell me Gadorian, have you taken to skulking about like some young fledgling? Leave the boy be." Gadorian turned his head to greet the shadow above him. With a laugh, Novanus leapt from the roof top he had been resting on and floated gently to the ground where he bowed with a flourish of his arm. "He is doing something which is somewhat important so kindly get your nose out of it." Novanus paused, then continued, "Oh by the way, have you missed me?" Gadorian let out a low growl. He had met this Novanus before. Appearing like a bluish human with cloven feet and three fingered hands, Novanus possessed very powerful mental abilities, such as telekinesis. Their weapons had never crossed, but he frequently interfered with Gadorian's fun. "Tch. Figures you would have something to do with this. The human piqued my interest and offered me insufficient respect for a favor. Surely you would know that I would never interfere in this affair. I merely wished to observe. You always were too high-strung."  
The two vampires stood glaring at each other with intense malice. Their fury seemed to heat the cool, twilight air. "I'm not leaving, and I highly doubt it would be worth your time to try and make me. Play your little game, and I shall play mine. But surely, you can't expect to deny me my right as an audience member?" While the victor of any fight between the two would be difficult to predict, the loser would surely leave the other with some painful scars. The entire matter would remain much less complicated if bloodshed were to be left out of the picture.


	4. Chapter 4

Lent's Mission

Lent and the shadowy figure spoke briefly. Then they left and made their way to a horse stable. Secretly they loaded a carriage with what appeared to be a casket, then covered it up with a few goods and supplies. Lent thanked the person, climbed aboard the carriage and then headed off on his way. He had a long way to go to Meridian, and with this package the trip would not be easy. "Better take the long way," Lent thought, and started down a trade route that wasn't too well known among the Sarafan. As far as the vampire and his unknown follower, there was no sign.  
Lent rode all night, keeping a sharp eye out for all the dangers of the night. Vampires were the least of his worry. The last thing he needed were smugglers and thieves trying to steal his precious cargo. Off he rode towards the pillars...

Orugarde watched as Lent left the stable with his cargo. Turning back to the forest, he came upon a small camp fire. "Did he take the bait?" "Yes, my lord." "Very good. Let's see how he does."

Gadorian tossed his hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head. "See? That wasn't so bad, now was it Nova? I'll leave you to play with your puppet. Right now I've got a pet of my own that may need tending to." Gadorian again entered his bat form to begin the flight back towards the city, but not before sarcastically sending a wink and a blown kiss Novanus' way.

"My lord, is this really necessary?" "Yes, Orugarde, it is. Not only do we need to flesh out whatever enemies are out there, we need to assess their strength and ability. This information is crucial to the success of the mission. But most importantly we needed to be sure he is capable of executing the task and of his commitment to it. We need to know if he would sacrifice his very life for it. Why? Because the very life of the Priestess herself is at stake. We need to know where his loyalties lie. Then, we can trust him. Then, we can talk."

It was half past midnight, and the full moon shone brightly, illuminating the fields around. Lent continued to drive the carriage and noticed that as he traveled further south, the grass started to dry until it crumbled like dust beneath the wooden wheels. "This land is surely cursed," Lent said to himself as he brought the wagon to a halt. He looked to his left and saw the monument where the pillars once stood. "Strange that we should take this route."  
It had been nearly 300 years since the pillars fell, and all balance was lost. Lent wondered if their petty actions could make a difference, if balance could ever be restored. All he had was his faith and hope. Perhaps one day, Vampires would rule the world again, but in the meantime...  
"Heeya!" Lent shook the reigns and the horse began to walk again. "Should be arriving in Freeport by morning," Lent said out loud, as if talking to someone. Laughing at himself, Lent doubted he could be heard. It wasn't going to be easy to smuggle this cargo onto a ship into Meridian, and if the ship were to sink, Lent hoped he would go down with it; there would be no point in living should this mission fail. The fate of all Nosgoth hung in jeopardy. Off into the night he rode...

Full moon shining from the cloudless sky cast shadows that raced through Izael's vision as he rode through the thick forest. When he had returned to the monastery to sleep, he had been given a new assignment. A few hours ago, some stranger had brought news that a patrol of knights had been killed in the Termogent Forest. All signs suggested they had been attacked by a vampire and the High Priest feared that it was heading to Meridian. Izael was sent to deliver a warning, and now he would be riding two days without rest. Riding a white horse and wearing a black cloak to hide his armor, Izael followed the small trail that he had discovered when he had wandered in these woods as a kid. He was exhausted but determined. He would not give up.

It was nearly dawn, and Lent could see the city of Freeport in the distance. Despite being nearly dawn, it was far too early to enter the city with out being questioned by the Sarafan. A stranger wandering in the early hours of the morning would surely raise a few suspicions. Lent parked his wagon, and built a small fire. He hadn't slept in days, and probably wouldn't sleep until he got to the ship. He took a sip of his water, and started to cook a small meal. It wasn't long before he started attracting attention. A white horse came up with a man wearing a black coat. Lent watched the person as he approached, keeping his weapons handy.

Despite being very tired, Izael didn't plan to stop. However, something in this man troubled him. He couldn't tell what it was, but his instincts just told him that this was no ordinary man. He stopped his horse and dismounted, and withdrew even deeper into his cloak. Something told him not to reveal his true allegiance.  
"Good morning, sire. May I ask where are you going?" "No place in particular," Lent told the strange man. "I'm a traveling merchant, going from town to town. I was on my way to Freeport to try and sell a few goods. I sell goods to people to ward off vampires. Can't be too careful, even with the Sarafan about. Care to warm yourself for a little while and tell me your story?" Lent asked, trying to seem equally curious. Truthfully, Lent couldn't care less, but travelers often talk to people, and if Lent seemed suspicious to this gentleman he might tell a Sarafan patrol up ahead. Lent listened to the man for awhile and sparked up his pipe to try and relax.

Flying back to the city, Gadorian sensed that the sword, and therefore Izael, had left. By tracing the weapon's aura, Gadorian concluded that he would follow it and Izael to his destination. The time when the truth about the boy and the sword was to be revealed grew ever closer.

As Gadorian landed, he was surprised to find Izael camped out with Lent. He thought he was finished with the vampire hunter, but apparently their destinies had become more tangled than he imagined. Gadorian hid from a distance and watched the pair under a heavy cloak that would blunt the effects of the morning sun.

"Goods to ward off vampires, eh? I'd really need one, been encountering 'em way too often for my liking." Izael kept talking while he tried to think. Something just wasn't right. "I guess soon I need to think myself as a freelancer-Sarafan," laughed Izael. "It's somehow related to my sword here, you see. A gift from my father, it is, and very powerful indeed. And for some reason, it really attracts vampires. I'm still wondering why, though. Guess I'll have to figure out what's so important in this sword quick, or I'll be overrun by blood-sucking nocturnes." After a pause, Izael asked, "So, why are you camping here and not in the city?"

Kour tended the fire with a small piece of timber and warmed his hands on the newly lit flame. "Flames," Kour thought out loud. "Flames, my lord?" Not realizing he had spoken out, Kour lifted his head, took a deep breath and answered, "Yes Orugarde, flames." Watching as the flickers grew in size and number, he recalled the words of his master, "The minds of Nosgoth furnish the flames that bring them.   
"When I was about as old as you are now, I also had a master. As wise as his years and more, he was my mentor. He knew of things unwritten, passed down from generation to generation, master to apprentice for eons. I was hoping to pass this knowledge on to you someday. But the sands of time wait for no one and I suppose today is as good a time as any. And there may not be much time left.

"Before his death, my master told me of the ancient prophecy of the coming of a force, known by the ancients as The Wraithen," Kour told Orugarde, who had now taken a seat beside him. "Inhabitants of the Nerayan, a plane of existence of great suffering, these creatures were formerly human, but at the time of death they passed away possessing the most negative of minds. Such minds are those reborn into this underworld. And as grains of sand become the desert, so did the minds of this realm merge. Forming the Wraithen, a collective mental entity, they have the power to cross into the material world. Forged through evil, they are drawn to it like moths to a flame, passing through dimensions, and are a force indestructible.  
"Time has smiled on the wicked, Orugarde. The scales have tipped in favor of darkness. I fear Nosgoth has become the breeding grounds and as prophesied will furnish the flames that bring them."

Novanus laughed at the impetuousness of his old acquaintance. Trust him not to leave well enough alone. "Ah Gadorian," he said to himself, "you know very well you will not be able to keep yourself from interfering." Novanus walked away from the now empty area and turned the corner into streets of the town. When he had gone a few streets on he grabbed and fed off a mugger who had been hiding in the shadows. No challenge at all for a vampire of Novanus' age. With a thought Novanus was in the air following the scent of the one he would have to protect in the near future. Soon they would be here.

"Oh, here's as good of a place as any," Lent answered Izael's question. "Probably safer than the streets of the city, and at least I can hear people sneaking up." Lent rummaged through a box in the carriage as he talked. He glanced at the spot where the casket was hidden and considered making a sacrifice out of this boy. Who knew how long it had been since his precious cargo had fed? "Here we are," Lent emerged holding a bottle. "Pour this holy water around you in a circle when near vampires and it'll create a protective barrier against them. Pour it on yourself for extra stamina, and on vampires for a lethal dose of acid burns." The water was actually sugar water, and would probably amuse a vampire more than burn one. Lent smiled as he handed it to the young man, thinking of the surprise on his face when he learned the truth. "You said you had a magical sword? May I inspect it?" Izael unsheathed the sword and presented it to Lent.  
"Ah," Lent said, "That is a sword of the Serioli." "Serioli?" Izael asked.  
"The Serioli were vampire worshipers who have been extinct for centuries. They were betrayed by their human chief, who was denied the curse of vampirism. Unwilling to accept his denial, he slaughtered his brethren and tried to kill his masters. But the swords of the Serioli, powerful as they are, can not harm vampires. The sword knows better than to bite the hand that feeds it." Lent noticed the counter curse newly etched on the blade. "I think you're related to this Serioli chief. See how there's a counter curse trying to allow the sword's power to be used against vampires? And here, the Sarafan symbol." Lent definitely wanted to kill this young warrior now, descendant of the Serioli betrayer. He was clearly not to be trusted, but his body would surely be found before Lent got on the boat and that would compromise his mission. Still, this boy could do no harm. He was off to fight vampires with a cursed sword and sugar water. The sword could one day have its "curse" lifted, but Izael himself would have to become a worshiper and clear his family name before the foul Sarafan magic could be lifted. "Still, you'll never kill a vampire with this sword. You should get another one. Tell me, have the Sarafan come up with any new magic ways to ward off vampires?" Lent asked. Izael was stunned by the revelation that Lent knew what he was. "Eh, how could I know that? I better get going, you know. Mmmh, thanks for the info and holy water." He gave Lent a few coins, mounted his horse and rode away.

Lent watched the Sarafan leave, and then put out the fire. He gathered his things and made ready to enter the city. There was still much to do. Suddenly a knife was put on Lent's back, he couldn't help but smile. "Alright, you know the drill," the thug said, "Hand over all your jewels, money, and whatever else you might have and I may leave you breathing." Lent didn't waste a moment. Swiftly he turned around and hit the thug's jaw with the hilt of his axe. The thug bit his tongue and fell to the ground as blood spilled from his mouth. "Careful," Lent said, "Must not waste it." He quickly tied and gagged the victim and threw him in the back of the carriage. The thug squirmed around, trying to free himself, and Lent opened the casket.  
The thug laid on the ground, his gag muffled his horrific screams, his eyes frozen on what he saw. A body, blackened and burned by fires, laid peacefully within. Its white hair was stained with soot and ash, and ever so shallowly it breathed. Lent grabbed the victim, held him over the burned body, and slit the thug's throat. Blood poured all over the body, and it stirred. Suddenly its instinct took over and the burned body of the vampire seized the thug, and drained him of his life. Satisfied, the vampire returned to his hibernation and peacefully slept. "Good to see there's still spirit in you, Master," Lent said. "Perhaps there is still hope to save this land after all."  
Lent closed the coffin, got rid of the body, and cleaned up the spot of blood that had gotten on him during the incident. Now that it was dawn he could attempt to gain access to the city of Freeport and try to get his precious cargo to Meridian.


	5. Chapter 5

Investigations and Spying

Gadorian peered through the coming sunlight as Izael rode off away from the vampire-worshipper. Convulsing with laughter, he wondered who had so misinformed Lent, who surely thought himself an authority on all-things-vampire. Yes, the sword had its roots with the Serioli chief, and yes, Izael's roots went the same path as the sword. But the weapon could be just as lethal against vampire or human, hylden or demon, depending on how adeptly the user manipulated the powers within it. The sword refused, however, to harm any of those who had helped to forge it...  
Gadorian followed Izael, careful to remain hidden. He clutched the rune on his chest, whose effulgence shone so brightly it would blind a man were the glow not hidden by the thick cloak. Soon, the boy would learn the truth about the sword and his own heritage.

Lent was outside the gates of Freeport at last. The city served to bridge the gap between the east and west sides of Nosgoth, which was divided by the Black Forest of Termogent. Once allowing free trade from the richness of Meridian to all areas of Nosgoth, now this city belonged to the Sarafan. All trade was taxed, and then taxed again once arrived the merchant arrived at the destination, and like Meridian itself, Freeport strived to purge vampires from its streets.  
Lent joined up with a large caravan making its way through the gates. Surprising enough, the guards were "allowing" people to pass through with little questioning. Riders and carriages passed through with little difficulty, it was as if the borders were open once again. "This might be easier than I thought," Lent said, but he spoke too soon.  
Suddenly the opening of the gate turned a dark green and a figure was thrown from it and fell on the ground. "Vampire!" shouted a guard, and in an instant they were upon him. The vampire was a fledgling, female. "She can't be more than 50 years old," Lent thought. "What's happening?" Lent asked a member of the caravan. "Cursed Vampires," a man said, "The Sarafan brought these magic glyph gates which stop only vampires. They've put them throughout Freeport and Meridian to keep the vampire menace away."  
Lent watched as the Sarafan made short work of the vampire, she was impaled and left hanging as a trophy. Lent turned his wagon around and left. Clearly he could not enter the city and would have to ride directly to Meridian. This did not please Lent at all, with this carriage he'd have to go around the forest, and even worse he had to back through his tracks. This was dangerous indeed, but obviously he had no choice.  
Lent whipped the reigns and the cart sped up. Suddenly he realized a patrol of Sarafan were following him. They had seen him turn around and had a few "unhealthy" questions to ask. He sped the horse up as fast as it would go, and then attached his two axes by the hilt.  
Moments later the Sarafan were upon him. A guard quickly tried to board the carriage, but he lost his hand and fell off his horse. Lent then kicked an empty barrel off the carriage and tripped a horse. Its rider flew off and hit a tree while a second horse tripped and its rider fell as well. Two Sarafan were left, and they both approach on either side of the carriage. Lent stood in the middle, deflecting their sword swings with his axe/staff. He jabbed at one guard, catching his neck in between his blades, twisted his axes and broke the guard's neck. The final guard boarded the carriage as it raced down the dirt road. They exchanged swings and blows until Lent cut the guard's coin purse with an upstroke. The guard instinctively tried to grab it and Lent kicked him off the cart and caught the coins. "Finally," Lent said, "I'm able to afford a meal." He sat back down and rode off, not slowing down for a moment.

Novanus watched Izael through the eyes of a mouse at the side of the road. How strange, he thought, that apart from he, the boy was the only descendant of the Serioli left. The eyes of the small rodent moved to the sword Izael carried. Novanus remembered well the forging of the sword. Had it not been he who had forged the blade with the help and blood of his masters? Had it not been he who had lain the first enchantments upon it? And was it not he, who had foreseen the betrayal of his old chief Astical?  
Astical had been a young, proud and somewhat rash leader to the tribe. Novanus could still clearly see in his mind Astical's face peering out of his tent, his short stubby beard filled with bits of food and probably crawling with lice. The forging of the Sword had produced a great deal of interest in the tribe, especially from Astical who coveted it to the point that he dared to defy his vampire lords. It was at this point that Novanus foresaw his chief's betrayal and had tried to warn the Ancients of Astical's treachery. It cost him his life. Astical tried to kill Novanus, but the ancients had saved him gifting him with vampirism. Astical's fate was far worse. Novanus shuddered to think of the place where his spirit had been sent. Even he, the victim of Astical's greed and treachery, would not have considered sending the man's soul to Nerayan.

With a start, Novanus came to his senses. For a few moments he had thought he

had felt the presence of a vampire nearly as old as he. But no, the mind that had brushed so briefly past his had gone, leaving no trace. Within a moment he was in the air, watching the form of young Izael below.

Izael rode faster. He was only 5 hours away from Meridian, and he wanted to get there before dawn. He had sat on the saddle for 10 hours now and was in serious need of rest. His rations had run out, and now the only thing left to drink was that so-called "holy water" (even Izael could sense that it was ordinary water). He was glad he had bought it, actually so glad he wouldn't bother to get that poor cheater who had sold this water arrested. However, ever since he had parted ways with that low-life Izael had had a feeling he was being followed. There wasn't much he could do about it, though. He hoped it was just his imagination, and, if it'd turn out it wasn't, he could get to Meridian in time.

Novanus watched Izael with interest from the skies above. "Holy Water," HA, what nonsense. Novanus allowed himself a small chuckle. A new problem faced Novanus now. With approaching Meridian came the problem of gaining entry to the city itself. The accursed Sarafan and their Glyph gates were likely to cause a problem. Novanus would have to find an alternate way into the city other than the one Izael would take.

Izael's relief was unimaginable when he finally stood in front of the mighty walls of Meridian. However, it was well past midnight and the gates were closed. He had to sleep outdoors for this one final night. He quickly found shelter in the shadow of a nearby cliff. He lit up a fire, tied his horse and got ready sleep.

Lessa was nearly to the city she had seen shining in the distance through the dark trees of Termogent forest. She had been to the old mansion of Vorador looking for her master's sire, but the place had long since been deserted. She stopped her great black mount, it was a demon horse of magic long forgotten, but the human cattle would only see a great black horse...one to keep well clear of.  
As she came nearer to the city, she glimpsed a fire and horses tied by a cliff. As she neared, she made out a form of a human sleeping. She was not hungry but decided she would play with this one to find out the things she would know. Dismounting, she walked towards the fire, and over her shoulder she said, "Seth stay there." The horse nodded as if in agreement and stood as still as a statue in the moonlight. Lessa walked over to the man and sat the other side of the fire to wait until he awoke...

Gadorian landed near the outskirts of Meridian. Clearly, this was to be the stage for the next act of the play he had become caught in. Gadorian could sense his wayward Sarafan was nearby, but he decided to let the priest come to him. He would need Izael's help to get into the city. Who better to sneak in a vampire than a Sarafan? Gadorian focused his energies to contact Izael through the whisper, a skill normally restricted between vampires. The bond between the two, written in blood and heralded through the ages, served as an adequate conduit for Gadorian's telepathy. "Get me into Meridian, and I will tell you everything..."

Izael awoke from his slumber, panting heavily. Had his dream been real? Was that vampire really expecting HIM to smuggle it into Meridian? What would he do know? It was then Izael spotted the woman. She was perfect, the most beautiful thing Izael had ever seen, so beautiful that Izael forgot to grab his sword for a second. Then he came to his senses. Taking his sword, Izael rose to his feet. He could only hope that lady wasn't a vampire. He didn't want to be left defenseless. "W-who are you?" he managed to ask.

Novanus watched the young vampire with interest. Sensing a degree of malice, Novanus forced himself to control his temper. "Ask your questions young one, but do not get any ideas about this young mortal. One wrong step child and your ashes will be blown in the wind. Understood?" The female vampire looked around as she was made aware of another presence. She was very attractive, Novanus had to admit, even without the glamour she was casting on the eyes of Izael. She seemed familiar to him for some reason and the image Vorador's dilapidated mansion flashed through her mind. He had met her before in a time long ago.  
"If you really wish to know about the world as it is today come to me and I shall endeavor to give you all the answers you need. But heed my advice; it is not safe for one such as you to walk in the open as you are." Novanus allowed the Vampire to see him sitting in the tree above the now bewildered Izael. With a mischievous laugh he jumped down from the tree to land at its base and lean against the trunk of the tree. His eyes widened in disbelief as he recognized the vampire. "Lessa?" he said in disbelief.

Great, two vampires. Two. Vampires. VAMPIRES. Two against one. Izael was left with no choices but to die honorably. There were two vampires heading for Meridian. They had arrived at the same time he had. He could never warn Meridian in time. He yelled out, "DIE, FOUL CREATURES!"

With a negligent glance, Novanus locked Izael's muscles, leaving him immobile like a statue. "Honestly, Izael, you must learn to show a little restraint in these situations. On this intimate level I would have at least expected you to ask our names before you tried to dismember us both." Izael's eyes flashed from left to right showing the horror he was feeling at being so helpless. "Izael, I shall release you but know this, try to attack us again and you will wind up exactly the way you are now, or worse." Izael stumbled to the floor, his muscles released from their constraint  
Novanus turned to Lessa, "So you've awakened, what an interesting time to choose." Novanus laughed gleefully. "Oh this will be interesting." Lessa regarded this vampire with interest, he was somehow known to her, and then...  
"Novanus?...You survived, I would have thought you long dead by now, you always liked to take chances, Vorador said it would be the death of you." Lessa laughed at the memory of this one. "Are you trying to get into Meridian, using a Sarafan no less? You always did have a twisted sense of humor, but surely you can get in without him, or has your power dwindled that much?" Lessa walked over to Novanus to look at him more clearly. He was much the same as she remembered him but there was more a sense of power about him now. "No, it's not that. I sense more power in you than the last time we met, so tell me why do you use this one?..."

Izael looked at the two vampires who were locked in conversation. He looked at the gates of Meridian. He might make it. He jumped to his feet and made a run for it, yelling for guards at the same time. This time it was Lessa's turn to stop the mortal. He froze, but too late - the guards had heard his cry. Whistling for her horse, she jumped astride him then turned to Novanus.  
"Looks like we'll have to postpone this reunion, I will meet you in the old place, the sewers, they were being built when I was but newly fledged but I know where the oldest part is, meet me there," said Lessa. Then, turning her horse to the gate, she called over her shoulder, "That is, if you can get in." With that, she spurned her horse to full gallop towards the gate and...passed through the ward as if it was never there, disappearing into the dark streets.

Novanus watched smiling and then disappearing from mortal sight in a cloak of shadow. The impetuous Lessa and the terrified Izael had performed quite a show but to be fair it had accomplished nothing. The theatrics of riding straight through the ward gate were all well and good, but Novanus had seen her quite clearly jump over the city walls on her damned demonic horse. She would have known that her psychic projection would have been of no use against Novanus' evolved mental abilities.  
The Sewers. Novanus felt so pleased to be returning there. To think that he, the once high priest of the ancients, had been forced to dwell in that place, to think that the descendents of that proud race had fallen so far. No more. He would be dammed before he would return to living in such squalor. Novanus focused on the other side of the ward gate, seized control of the Sarafan guard on the other side of it and deactivated the Ward gate. Then he walked right past the now recuperating Izael and the group of Sarafan protecting him. Novanus allowed Izael to see him flash a smile at him. "You will be alright Izael, don't worry. I shall explain everything, soon." Izael looked at Novanus, scared as he realized he was hearing the words inside his head. The boy would be safe for the time being in their company.


	6. Chapter 6

A Significant Meeting

Through the dark, silent streets, Novanus worked towards the older part of the city. He deliberately moved at a leisurely pace allowing nostalgia to wash over him. Despite the circumstances of that time, Novanus had enjoyed himself. He turned down a particularly dark alley. The walls were covered in slime and the grate which blocked the entrance to the sewers had been welded shut. Novanus lifted the grate off the wall as if it were no more than paper and continued into the sewer. In no time at all he began to see the evidence of a vampiric presence here. Blood spots appeared all over the floor and occasionally splashed against the walls. "Fledglings," thought Novanus, typically sloppy with the kills. No sense of style or grace. Novanus on impulse sent out a mental call to Gadorian telling him where he was meeting Lessa. He knew that Gadorian would in all likelihood completely ignore him but it didn't hurt to keep the ignoramus informed of events. Novanus walked on until he entered the chamber that had once been the home of the Vampire resistance and where he had called home a long time ago.

Lessa had used the psychic projection well but she knew Novanus had not been fooled by the smile that had crossed his face as she had left. Now free of the cattle's suspicion, Lessa guided the horse to the old parts. Much had changed since she had roamed. The Sarafan had more power and that damned armor they wore could be annoying, she had to use up much power to keep that stuff ignorant of her presence. She needed to feed before she went to meet Novanus.  
As she rounded the corner, she found a drunk man ambling in the streets. His clothes were that of a noble and he walked with a swaying step. Lessa dismounted and walked up to him, making herself look weak and alone. "Please, kind sir. I am lost, can you tell me the way to the old quarter?" she asked. "Wasssh that? Oldd Quarter? ummm yesth I'll I'll tell you where, but you havve toooo give ma a kisth after," replied the noble, slurring his words in his drunken stupor. "Ok," replied Lessa. The noble responded, "Go to the end of the street and head north, you will, will come across it, now how about that kisth?" "Come here then, my handsome man," replied Lessa as she opened her arms to him.  
The man could not believe his luck. This beautiful woman was going to give him a kiss just for directions. She came forward and her lips touched his lips, they stayed there for a minute, then slowly they started to go down to his neck with soft kisses. When those red lips met his neck where his main artery resided, he felt a sharp pain. The dizziness, at first he put it down to the drink, but on the edge of his mind like a wave of light he suddenly realized he was in a vampire's embrace...but it came too late. The man slipped to the floor with a soft moan, and Lessa wiped the blood from her mouth and remounted her horse to continue on to the sewer.  
Lessa arrived to see Novanus already waiting. "So you made it," she said in way of greeting. "Where did we leave off...Oh yes, you where going to tell me of this time." Lessa walked over to a pillar which had a large lip on which she could sit and listen to his answers, and probably his questions too...

Izael stood slowly as the spell expired. He explained to the Sarafan guards what they had on them right now. After that, he decided that he had to follow the two vampires to their meeting place in the sewers. Though Izael had never been in the sewers, it was all too easy to follow the bloody marks on the walls until he came to a small chamber. The two were already there. Good. Now all Izael needed to do was to wait for the regiment of elite knights to arrive and purge the ground once and for all.

Novanus looked up at Lessa's entry. She looked pale but Novanus could see the telltale flush to her cheeks that indicated she had fed since he had last seen her. "The time you have awoken to is fraught with danger. The Cabal is finished, and the Sarafan are more powerful than ever. Any fledglings born today seldom live a week before they are killed. They have all manner of means to track and kill us and only the strongest of us can survive." Novanus paused. "You want answers," he continued as he looked at Lessa. "Answers will make you want to get involved. I tell you now do not interfere in what is afoot, it will only cause problems which I will have to tidy up."   
Lessa looked at Novanus with an injured expression. "Don't look at me like that, Lessa. All you need to know is that the Sword of the Serioli is once more among us, and it is wielded by the only living descendant of my old tribe, the Sarafan you nearly killed tonight." Novanus turned towards the entrance to the chamber. "In fact, the very same Sarafan warrior who is hiding within that alcove," Novanus pointed to the corner of the room. "It's ok Izael, you can come out." Nothing in the room moved except for the flickering of the shadows from the lit torches. "Suit yourself, Izael, but we both know you're there."  
Novanus turned to Lessa. "The inhabitants of the Nerayan are on the move."

Lessa looked to the dark alcove. "Him. But this one has no idea of what he is doing. Even now he thinks he will kill us. You and I both know he would not get that far, but it still hasn't sunk in him yet," replied Lessa while looking at the alcove where the mortal hid. "But enough of him, I come only for my sire for whom I seek. Tell me, do you know anything of Vorador? Your plans do not interest me."

The fire was warm and Orugarde looked on as Kour's words weighed heavily on his mind. Not knowing what to make of this new information and full of questions, he turned only to see an agonized look on Kour's face. Eyes closed and grimaced, Kour was clearly in pain. Clasping his head in his hands, he bent, head down in silent agony.  
"My lord, what is wrong? Are you alright?" Orugarde came to Kour's aid. Helping him back to his seat, Orugarde noticed an unusual movement within the fire. The small yellow flickers began to swirl. Warm, soft embers turned to hot, blue flames and rose to mist high above. Orugarde watched dumbfounded as wisps of mist multiplied and twisted into shapes almost recognizable. As Orugarde looked on, Kour suddenly called out, "Orugarde, Listen! Empty your mind! Let go of all thoughts! Quickly!"  
Without hesitation, Orugarde diverted his gaze from above and sat down on the ground below. Years of training kicked in and Orugarde began to focus within. His breathing slowed, his body relaxed, his mind was still. The white blue mist now gathered into a zephyr of swirling white wind and swooped down on the two still bodies. Kour and Orugarde maintained unwavering composure as the entities passed through their bodies unaffected and out into the black of night.

Izael stepped from the shadows, his courage having returned. "Ah, but I am not here to kill you, undead beasts. No, that job will be left for my brothers once they arrive. Neither am I here to threaten you. You say you can give me answers, and you haven't killed me...yet. So, as a return, I offer you this chance to leave Meridian while there is still time. I warn you, should you stay, my brothers WILL find you. And I don't want you killed until I've had my answers. So, leave Meridian, and I will seek you out." Novanus let out an enormous laugh that sent shivers down Izael's spine. The laugh was tinged with both malice and mischief and for some reason Izael stepped back a pace.  
"My dear boy, your Sarafan friends would all be dead before they stepped within 50 feet of me or Lessa, I can guarantee that." Novanus tapped his cloven foot on the floor. "The answers will be given at my leisure and will not be dictated by some scrap of a lad who has no idea of his heritage, and hides within the skirts of the Sarafan Order."  
Izael took a step forward and froze his muscles once again in a state of stasis, unable to move. His eyes showed no flicker of fear, but instead complete defiance.  
Novanus turned to Lessa and took a step forward; he laced a tentative hand on her shoulder. "My dear, I do have news of Vorador. I am sorry child but he was killed." Lessa collapsed to the floor sobbing. "Hush, child, do not cry for him, he died fighting for us all, as he would have wanted to go." Novanus turned to Izael, "His head was taken and used as a trophy by the Sarafan order." Novanus spat out the words showing his complete contempt. "Vorador fought until the last. Sadly now I am the only Vampire who can even remember what our Forefathers were like. I am sorry, child, but bottle your grief for now. Although the Sarafan would be little trouble for us, I believe that a change of scenery is called for. Hold back your grief and come with me to my home. It is not far from here and we have much to discuss."  
Novanus turned back to Izael. "We will leave now. Should you wish to receive the answers you desire, travel north past Uschtenheim. When you reach a lake of ice I shall come and find you. Do not try and tell any of your brothers of the route you are to take as you shall find that you will not be able to speak of it at all."  
Novanus turned to Lessa and picked up the weeping form in his arms. "How child-like she seems," he thought, "I shall comfort her as best I can." With that, the pair was gone, leaving the now free Izael gasping for breath on the floor.

"Whoa," Lent said as he pulled back on the reigns. He had reached the gates of Meridian at last. How he was he going to smuggle his precious cargo into the city remained to be seen. Lent cautiously approached the gate and was very surprised to see it was open. A single guard stood watch. "Hello there," Lent said, "I didn't realize Meridian's gates were open at night."  
"Cursed vampires destroyed our glyph gates," the knight replied. "A team is currently on its way to fix it before we're over-run with vampires." "I don't suppose you might let me pass?" Lent asked. "Name and business?" the knight replied. "Purie, vampire hunter. I'm here to re-supply my wagon and I'm on my way."  
The knight laughed, "Well, I don't think you'll find much work in here with so many Sarafan." The knight inspected the wagon, wooden stakes tied up in bundles, a day's worth of food, and some holy water. "Alright, you can pass."  
"Heya," Lent shook the reigns and he entered the streets of the city. He had to find the leader of the Cabal, this prize he was smuggling in could only be given to him, and no other vampire. Making his way to the older parts of the city, he encountered a large squad of Sarafan knights. Lent quietly listened in.  
"This way!" the glyph knight said, "Our informant says that the cursed vampire nest is in the sewers." "This should prove interesting," Lent thought. He decided to carefully follow them. Perhaps these vampires were part of the resistance and could take Lent and his cargo to sanctuary. The knights led him to an entry way to the sewers. It was too small for Lent to get his wagon in, so he decided to wait with his cargo. He over-heard the knights speaking of another squad meeting them in the middle so they might ambush the unsuspecting vampires, and that the informant was probably dead so kill all that are in there. Lent wondered if he should intervene or wait to see if the vampires were the victors.

Once again, Izael slowly rose to his feet. He was now very angry. He was tired of being pushed around. He would break into the Sacred Library here in Meridian. He would then uncover all the secrets of the Sarafan Brotherhood. Izael hoped that those books would contain all he needed to know in order to counter the psychic abilities of the vampires, like the generals and high priests in his sacred order. He knew that to the Sarafan, he would probably be already dead, since he had pursued the vampires this far alone. To make it look like he had actually been killed here, he removed his shoulder plate. Taking his sword, he opened his vein and spilled his blood on the plate until it was covered in it and there was a small pool on the floor. Then, he concentrated for a second, and using the healing magic his father had taught, closed the wound. Then, he vanished into the night.

Lent waited outside the sewer entrance as he heard shouts from within. A Sarafan warrior hurried out of the sewers holding his arm. "What a coward," Lent thought, "I should kill such a weakling." Lent dismounted and took off his overcoat. His right arm showed the tattoo of Vorador's dragon, indicating his bloodline. Although human, he was a direct descendent of Vorador (when Vorador was human), and he had always taken pride in that. Lent grabbed his axes and a few throwing knives. He looked over and saw that the coward Sarafan had alerted another squad which was making its way into the sewers. "Well, can't back out now." Lent secured his belongings and crept into the sewers after the third squad of Sarafan entered.  
The sewers smelled of human feces, and fresh bodies lay everywhere. Suddenly a hand grabbed Lent's shoulders and he instinctively turned and beheaded the guard who took him by surprise. Two guards looked up in surprise to see a human fight along side of these vampires and they tried to storm him.  
The battle went on for twenty minutes and in the end stood two vampires, and a very tired Lent. Thirty bodies or so separated him from the two vampires, piled so close together Lent could walk to them with out setting foot on the ground.  
Lent didn't recognize either of them. One of them was obviously an elder, the other not too old, but not a fledgling either. Blood stained tears lay across her face, but neither of them sustained injury. They could have probably killed the Sarafan on their own with out too much difficulty.  
Lent stood there and introduced himself. "I am Lent, last member of the Loki vampire worshipers. I have come to Meridian seeking the vampire resistance. Can you aid me?" "I thank you for your help," Novanus looked Lent up and down, with a look of skepticism. "A Loki? I had believed your entire line had been extinguished years ago." Lessa leapt forward, "Why should we believe you?"  
With a comforting arm Novanus eased Lessa back. "Forgive the young one; she has just had some unsettling news. I am Novanus. I am afraid, Lent, that you are too late, short of a few fledglings and one other elder vampire, Lessa and I are the resistance left against the Sarafan. What is your business here?"


	7. Chapter 7

History Lesson

Gadorian awoke to the sun setting over the Meridian skyline. How long had he slept? In his dreaming he sensed something had happened...in the sewers? Novanus, yes. That charlatan could wait. Gadorian began to head towards the city. Whether through stealth or steel, he would achieve his goals. He found the ward gate...broken. "Well, I suppose Novanus served some use," he thought. Gadorian suppressed his vampire energies and took on his most human of forms as he approached the checkpoint.  
"Why, beautiful night, isn't it?" The guards looked up at the stranger with contempt. "What's yer bid'ness eer in Meridian?" "I've come from distant...Steinchroe! Yes, Steinchroe, to sell these wares!" Gadorian opened his coat to reveal a plethora of daggers, rings, and other such artifacts. "Check 'em, Bridgmont!" One of the guards lifted a strange looking instrument towards Gadorian, obviously imbued with the same enchantments as the ward gate. The instrument issued no response.  
"Alright, you're cleared."   
Gadorian could sense the sword's aura emanating from a large domed building to the north. The Grand Library of Meridian, had Izael decided to go the way of the scholar?  
Gadorian jumped in through one of the upper windows and landed silently just in front of Izael. "I'm so very disappointed in you, really. It seems I need to instill a little bit of...loyalty."  
Instinctively, Izael grabbed his blade. Just as before, however, the sword yielded to the will of Gadorian over that of the young knight. The sword levitated in front of Gadorian as he began his speech. "I don't know what lies you have heard of this weapon, but I tell you that if you trust me, you will learn the truth. This sword was to bring forth a new age of prosperity in Nosgoth. It was to foster an eternal brotherhood between man and vampire. All of this was lost due to the greed of one man.  
"A brief history lesson, before we continue. The Sarafan schools seem to have a warped interpretation of what precisely makes a 'vampire.' We are not demons. We are not vengeful dead. We are the descendents of the proudest race ever to grace Nosgoth, and in a way, so are you. The vampires were embroiled in a terrible war with the Hylden. In order to bring a close to the conflict, the vampires banished the Hylden by embodying the very life-force of Nosgoth into the Pillars. With their last breath, however, the Hylden cursed the vampires with the blood-thirst, and immortality. For a time, the ancient vampires were able to carry on, but crises erupted as the original vampire pillar guardians fell. The new guardians chosen by the pillars were humans, not vampires. The very nature of the pillars and the integrity of the binding holding back the Hylden scourge depended on vampire guardianship, and thus the ancients decided to pass the dark gift onto the human guardians and thus maintain the binding  
"The elders of the vampires needed a symbol to represent the new fellowship that would be necessary to maintain this delicate balance, and thus the very sword you hold now, was forged. A great many sorcerers had their hand in its creation, and thus no being knows the full extent of the secrets within the blade. One thing is for certain - the sword is a vessel, of sorts, for souls. Almost. It's difficult to explain  
"Surely you have heard of the Soul Reaver, the dreaded possessed blade once wielded by Kain? Inside the Reaver is a complete, somewhat sentient, living soul. Similar methods were used to create both blades, but the results were distinct.  
"As each bearer of the blade falls, a piece of his essence enters the sword, while his true soul continues on to the underworld. Memories, feelings, are stored in the sword, but nothing altogether significant. Thus, as the sword passes hands, it becomes more and more powerful, but never acquires a distinct will. The energy within the sword borrows its will from the bearer and acts as an extension of the bearer's own sword - the stronger the bearer, the more powerful the blade. But I digress.  
"As I said before, the sword was to be a physical link between humans and vampires. The vampires, therefore, sought the greatest of smiths - the Serioli - to forge it. The Serioli toiled for years to perfect the sword, and then even more time passed before the vampire elders had laid all of their magic upon it. Finally, the sword was presented to its champion.  
"The chief of the Serioli was a haughty, arrogant man, and the ancients saw this. Thus, they chose a different champion among the tribe - a great warrior, and the first human pillar guardian of conflict. The ancients presented the sword and then passed the gift on to their new champion. His son was to remain human and perpetuate his human line, and so it was. You, Izael, are descended from that line.  
"The champion was then asked to create a fledgling vampire, whose line would twin that of the humans. This vampire would be different from others in that he was bestowed with special abilities to live among humans. As the ages passed, he would be able to postpone the physical effects of becoming an elder - cloven claws and feet - though his strength and abilities would still continue to grow as if he had evolved as such. His human name and his land of origin have been lost to the ages, but the ancients dubbed him—Gadorian. Be it only a single drop, Izael, the same blood flows through our veins."  
Izael's jaw dropped in disbelief. Gadorian saw he needed some way to prove himself. He grabbed the sword floating in front of him, and swung it about a few times. Each time he did, the sword emitted a strange noise - to one who did not know its secrets, it was merely a terrifying cacophony - but as Izael listened closer and closer, he thought he could hear his ancestors singing in a beautiful choir each time the blade rent the air. As soon as his hand had touched the hilt, too, Gadorian was covered in a translucent, crystalline armor, and seemed to sprout wings made of the same material. The creature of the night shined with a light vaguely angelic in the dark library.  
"The Serioli chief grew more and more jealous as the days went by, and turned to dark sorcery to achieve his goals. He punched a hole through the binding that held back the Hylden in order to seek their aid. The rift he created was just small enough for his body and soul to be consumed by a member of that terrible race. The chief, now possessed by Hylden, set in motion his grand plan to undo the wonders that human and vampire had wrought. He—"  
Before Gadorian could continue, the library doors burst open and a squad of elite Sarafan entered, attracted by the light created when Gadorian held the sword. The vampire returned the blade to Izael and again entered the darkened alleys of Meridian...

Izael quickly hid the sword and pretended to be a scholar working overtime, arranging books to their shelves. To his luck, the guards were too arrogant to believe anything could happen HERE and left soon, leaving Izael alone to ponder all he had heard. Vampires were really the good ones? Then the Sarafan were evil, hunting down creatures of purity that only sought peace but were cursed to drink human blood. No, it could not be true. IT COULDN'T! But something told Izael that the vampire, Gadorian, wasn't lying. Still, he needed to be sure. Izael slowly lit another candle and walked to the Forbidden Shelves that were said to contain the full history of Nosgoth, written by scholars throughout the times. However, Sarafan had killed those scholars as heretics and sealed all their secrets here. There might be some wards, but Izael knew what books to take and run before those guards could react.

"Why am I here?" Lent couldn't help but smile with a slight hint of arrogance. "To save the vampire resistance, of course." Novanus and Lessa both let out their blood curdling laugh, but were both cut short by Lent's serious face. Lent looked the two over carefully. The male was an ancient, his feet were cloven and his hands only had three fingers. Lent estimated he was over 3,000 years old and probably knew the vampire heritage well. Lent looked over the younger female carefully. She was beautiful, and a beautiful woman is very dangerous; a beautiful woman vampire is even more dangerous. Men lose their wits and their lives with but a look in their eyes, so Lent avoided eye contact with her. "Come," Lent said, "I'll show you."  
The three made their way out of the sewers and to Lent's wagon. The moonlight shined brightly, illuminating the streets around. "Go inside", Lent said as he put his overcoat on to hide the mark of Vorador. The two vampires gave a look of concern but went inside and sat down. Lent sat from across from them, and then removed a floor board from under the wagon to reveal a burned vampire's body, its white hair blackened with its own ash. Its two white fangs peaked out from its lips as its breath was ever so shallow. "Behold, Kain. Destined to rule Nosgoth and restore the Vampire heritage."   
Both were speechless. Lent continued, "He's been smuggled around from place to place for over 100 years. His previous hiding place was in danger of being discovered, so being the last member of the Loki I was entrusted with him to find a better hiding place. What better place for him to awake then in the city of his very enemy?" Lent paused to marvel at his god. "He still has life in him; cut a throat above him and his instinct takes over and he feeds. As long as he is alive there is hope. There are those whose sole existence is to find this body and destroy it. And not just the unseen enemy from ancient days, but vampires as well." Lent gave a look of disgust, "It's a travesty that some are given the gift without full knowledge of their heritage. They would seek to exterminate their own kind to save their pathetic lives." Lent looked at Novanus, "It is only because you are an ancient that I know you know the truth. I need to take him to sanctuary, until then he is still in danger."

Novanus looked down at the charred corpse in front of him and laughed out loud.  
"KAIN!" Novanus laughed again. "So this is the master who fills your mind so. I should have guessed that this mangy dog would still be alive, he has more lives than a cat."  
Novanus looked up at Lent. "Sanctuary in Meridian is no longer as safe as it should be; we have two options from here. One, we can travel to my home. I will have to be there soon because I am expecting a visitor. Our second option is to try and rebuild the Cabal, here in Meridian. I have slightly more abilities at my disposal than Vorador did which should make hiding here easier but I fear there are not enough of us for that."  
Novanus paused and lowered the tone of his voice. "There is another threat to the vampire nation at this time than the Sarafan, however. With the inhabitants of the Nerayan so close to breaking through the barrier to our dimension, all life is threatened and unfortunately the only one who might be able to stop those accursed ones from damaging this time is only a boy who has no idea of the power he wields."  
Novanus smashed his fist into the wall, sending a shower of rubble around the room. "There just isn't enough time for all of this. There is too much happening and we are too few. I suggest we leave this city and head for my home. It is the safest possible place for Kain and us. I can protect us from the Nerayan, attempt to awaken Kain and hopefully awaken the boys potential and save us all. I will tell you one thing, descendant of Vorador," Novanus winked at Lent, "I am finding all this excitement rather fun." Novanus' eyes twinkled mischievously.

Lent seemed annoyed that this vampire wanted to take Kain out of Meridian. He had risked too much to bring him to the belly of the beast only to take him out now. "If it's all the same to you," Lent said, "I'd much rather keep him here. True that vampires are not safe in Meridian, but I can stay with him and bring him food every night without being caught. Besides, when he does awake on his own he will be right here to overthrow the Sarafan Lord. And if you aren't able to revive him we won't get another opportunity to smuggle him in here again."  
"If the Sarafan are exterminating our kind, what chance does a human have against them?" Lessa said. "The chance of surprise," Lent responded. "You saw the faces of those Sarafan in the sewers, a human is the most unsuspected attacker against this order." "Human, I could tear your throat and make a meal out of you. You haven't the smallest chance," Lessa replied. Lent retorted, "And you'd be going through eternity with a few missing limbs. I may be a vampire worshiper but I'm no easy meal. Do not make the mistake of underestimating me."  
Lent was proud, he knew it; and egging any vampire on was never a good idea. Still, Lent felt he had to stand his ground, he had been around vampires all his life and learned not to tolerate their prejudice. Still, he had to find a safe haven for his fallen god, and if this vampire truly offered shelter and a chance to revive him, then Lent could not pass this up.  
"Where is this lair of yours?" Lent asked. "I understand your reluctance to leave Meridian. I know how much of a journey you have made. Perhaps you are right about not moving Kain so soon after the journey as well. He needs rest, not another journey to strain his recovery. There may yet be a way to remain here away from prying eyes. Before the Sarafan or even man built a city here, there was a temple. A temple to my ancient masters. I am sure it has not been discovered as there are powerful enchantments laid on it. The entrance is blocked but I am sure I can clear it."  
Novanus turned to Lessa, "You must learn to control your temper." Novanus noticed Lent attempt to hide a smirk at the young vampire receiving a reprimand. "Descendent of Vorador or not," Novanus levitated Lent into the air and paralyzed all the Vampire worshipper's muscles, "Do not make threats you cannot back up. In order to dismember my friend here dear boy, you would first need to be able to move your arms. As I am sure you are aware, I can make that very difficult for you."  
Novanus laughed and released Lent, gently lowering him to the floor. "I am sorry, my friend, but I cannot stand idle threats and I think it was important that I place a few boundaries….for you all." Novanus aimed the last part of his sentence not just at Lent but also at Lessa and made her aware that he was doing so. "Enough of this, let us leave this place and head to the temple. I shall have some of my people meet us there with some nourishment for you Lent, and some creature comforts for all of us." Novanus turned his attention away from the other two and sent his mental voice out to his servant. "Admar, Admar wake up."  
In his bed not far from where Novanus and his two companions were, Admar the merchant lay asleep in his bed. He awoke from troubled dreams to hear the voice of his master in the vaults of his mind. "Master… is that you?" "Yes Admar, we have little time now my friend. Now listen to me, use some of the gold I gave you and go and buy food and furniture fitting of me and bring them here." Novanus sent a mental picture of the location to the entrance of the temple as well as directions to get there. "Master." "Yes Admar?" "It's three in the morning. How am I to get these things?" "Admar, my dear boy, I don't want to hear problems, I will see you at the Temple entrance." With that, Novanus left Admar's mind, leaving the merchant dazed and bewildered.  
Novanus now turned his attention to Gadorian. Although he thought the vampire was a complete ass, it was only decent that he inform Gadorian of the unfolding events. Novanus found Gadorian gazing at Izael. "Gadorian, listen to me." With that Novanus told him of all that occurred and requested his presence at the temple. "Oh and bring Izael with you. The boy needs to know what is going on."  
"Right," said Novanus, turning back to Lent and Lessa, "Let's go to the temple."

The party made its way to the temple, and Lent was pleased to see that it was indeed secure. The temple was hidden away from the eyes of man, and nearly impossible to reach. It took quite the effort to move Kain's body up the steep cliffs, for the temple was built by those with wings. Lent was probably the only human in a millennium or so who had set foot in it. Even he had to get help from the vampires to reach it. Lent hated having to rely on another, and although he was quite a capable human, these were living gods and his pride would always be humbled before them.


	8. Chapter 8

Setting Up Camp

After securing Kain in an ancient crypt, Lent walked over to the balcony, careful not to get too close to the rail-less ledge. The moon shone bright and illuminated the distant city, and Lent found himself pondering the strange company he was now with. He didn't know who the Nerayan were, and didn't care. His master was safe now, and that was all that mattered.  
Lent looked at the plate of food; it tasted horrible but he couldn't complain. Nor could he expect a vampire to prepare something worth eating. Taking a deep breath, he hoped his new companions were trustworthy. If the ancient one turned on him it could spell disaster for Lent; especially after that display of power earlier. All Lent had that could possibly save him, should such a thing happen, was a tiny whistle around his neck. Should a vampire turn on him all he had to do was blow on it and a devastating sound erupted from it, too high in pitch for humans to hear. The trick was to get it should such a time happen, and if he was immobile that made it very difficult.  
"Well, best not to worry about that now," Lent thought, "He has kept his promise thus far and Kain is certainly safe from the Sarafan here. Perhaps he can indeed revive his master." He sat on the balcony, admiring how peaceful the city was from a distance. It was nearly dawn, and Lent had a busy day ahead of him. Whether these were his masters or not, he would fulfill his promise and uphold the Loki tradition. When daylight approached, Lent would seek a way down to the ground so that he might bring victims for his vampire companions, and especially for the sleeping Kain. Lent didn't mind this task though, he sometimes enjoyed bringing victims. It was almost too easy sometimes, but tomorrow would not be one of those times. There was his master Kain, Novanus, Lessa, and the vampire he met earlier Gadorian. "Four vampires," Lent thought, "That's quite a number of people, I'll have to steal an entire brothel." And as if the peacefulness of the city crept up in him, Lent found peace and fell asleep for the first time in days.

It was midday by the time Lent woke up and there was no sign of his vampire companions. He expected as much and began to explore the temple. Walking around the runes he found an entrance where the ancients had their human servants enter and exit, as well as a vampire pantry. Let it be known that vampire pantries are not too different from a human dungeon, but this was a perfect place to bring in tonight's meals.   
Lent exited the temple through the servant entrance and carefully hid the entrance. After emptying his wagon, and changing into some Noble clothes he had acquired from one of Kain's victims, he left for the city to the nearest brothel house. The brothel was full of choice ladies, and the brothel master was greedy man. "Hello, young noble man, what can I do for you today?" The master asked. "It is not what you can do for me but what I can do for you," Lent said while tossing him a heavy purse full of money. "I'm throwing a party tonight and require 12 to 14 of your best girls, a banquet fit for a king, and the finest wine you have." "Yes sir!" The brothel master said with great haste and in no time the wagon was full of women, food, and wine. Lent had even talked the brothel master to partake in the festivities himself.  
He led the party to the temple and up the great stairs to the main chamber. By the time sunset came there was a table lit with candles, food covering one end to the other, and over a dozen drunken women with an even drunker pimp. Lent was pleased, and hoped his companions would be as well.

Gadorian waited by the gates of the library until the guards began to return to their posts. Silently, he crept back into the building. Izael was still searching through cases of books when the vampire entered. He spoke directly into the boy's mind, "Hurry up, grab what you need and let us go. I am allowing you to carry the sword, but where we are going, you must keep the weapon sheathed. The integrity of the blade demands I keep you from becoming a meal or a fledgling, but Novanus is so pompous he's likely to rip you apart if you so much as raise the blade towards him." Izael looked up, and his eyes told that he understood.  
The pair stole into the night and headed towards the newly inhabited sanctuary, Izael struggling to keep up with Gadorian's superhuman speed. Finally, they approached the summit. Gadorian burst through the doors and was surprised at the revelry he entered upon. Novanus was nowhere in sight, but after quickly surveying the room, Gadorian's eyes rested on Lent, and the party's explanation became clear.  
"Worship, indeed," he said, as a fanged smile flashed across his face. "Izael, stay in this room, enjoy the party, but try not to draw too much attention to yourself. Lucky you left your armor behind, or we'd run into much trouble explaining why a Sarafan was involved in such a party."  
Gadorian left Izael and entered the fray, scooping up a bottle of fine spirits as he did so. Most vampires were entirely immune to such inebriants, but Gadorian's unique abilities, intended to allow him to live amongst humans, had the added bonus of enabling him to enjoy such pleasures without any, or at least many, of their negative side effects. Picking out two of the finest women, and with bottle still in hand, Gadorian made his way towards one of the side rooms. With a quick nod of appreciation to Lent, he entered the room where he would stay till the others returned.

Lessa walked into the crypt where Kain rested. It had been many a year since she had seen him, newly made and killing all of Vorador's ghouls just to get to Vorador. Lessa had been one of Vorador's favorites then, not as a mate but more as a daughter than anything else. It was she that had opened the last door to give Kain entry to Vorador's chamber because if he had been left alone, Vorador would have had no guards left.  
Leesa looked at Kain now, so different from that time, but with so much more power than before. In this chamber she could hear his breath rasp and sense his growing hunger. So far the mortal had been feeding him other mortals, but Lessa began to wonder…Vorador had always said that her blood was special. It was true that she would heal quicker that any vampire she knew, including Vorador. In truth Vorador himself had drunk of her to heal him after his fight with Malek. If she were to give some of her blood to Kain then it was possible he would heal twice as fast. But Lessa would not act yet, she did not know Novanus' plan so she would ask him first. Lessa turned and left the crypt and as she passed the doors she heard the sound of females laughing in the dining room. Scowling, she decided to investigate.

Gadorian stirred, sensing another vampire presence. He incinerated the corpses of his meals, and shook off the lingering effects of alcohol before exiting his room. Upon his exit he was assaulted by the overwhelming beauty of a female vampire. He knew that with vampires, however, beauty is usually equally matched by treachery. Nonetheless, he could not recall ever meeting this one before; he thought he would remember such a vision, though he had been mistaken before. He decided to introduce himself, for he would likely have to collaborate with her and the others in the future to face the coming crisis. Gadorian's emerald eyes pierced the night as he reached out his hand. "Gadorian, m'lady. An honor to make your acquaintance..."

"And there she is!" Lent said to the drunken brothel master as Lessa entered the door. "Isn't she the most beautiful creature you've ever seen?" Lent gave a mischievous smile to the vampiress. Lessa gave him a look of confusion. "He's all yours, my dear. And if he passes out on you, maybe you can have me as well." Lent winked playfully, pretending to be drunk. Truth be told, Lent had never touched alcohol in his life. "Dulls the wits," his father once told him, "and in our line of work one needs all the wits you have and then some."  
"Keemmer my dear," the drunken man said, practically stumbling into Lessa's arms. "Ish alright, I'm not as drunk as I look," and without another word the man passed out to the ground. Lent looked down disappointed, "Well, it's the thought that counts, right?" Lessa gave Lent a look, as if she scarcely believed he had managed to do all this. Lent let down his guard a little and gave a hint of a smile.  
"Come here my dear," said a woman while she and her friend wrapped their arms around Lent, "I think we should show some gratitude to our benefactor." "And with that," Lent said to Gadorian and Lessa, "I must tend to my master."  
"Did you hear that Elza?" one woman said, "He calls his bits 'Master,'" the two women laughed. "Oh, and just wait till you see him." Lent said escorting the ladies out of the room, giving a cheeky smile to Lessa before leaving for Kain's crypt. "Master."  
Novanus dropped the body of the now dead whore and turned his thoughts to Admar. "What is it Admar?" "I've brought the things you requested." "Excellent. Where are you?" Admar replied, "Outside the temple, I'll tell you what, master, it weren't half difficult getting all of this stuff and then getting it up here was even more troublesome." Novanus laughed, "Well done, Admar. I shall come and meet you." Novanus walked out of the chambers, incinerating the whore's body as he went. He didn't exactly agree with the feast Lent had provided. Novanus preferred to hunt his own food. His cloven feet rapped against the marble floor of the temple he had once been high priest of. He walked down four corridors to the main entrance of the temple. Each corridor was lit by torches and each wall displayed a moment from the Ancients' history.  
Novanus exited the Temple to find a rather bedraggled Admar with a large collection of sofas and two beautifully crafted tables as well as a bag full of silver plates and cutlery and a few candelabras. Novanus could not help but laugh.  
"My God Admar, how on earth did you manage to get all that up here?" "Oh sure you laugh, but do you have any idea how heavy some of these things are?" With a thought, Novanus lifted the entire collection of furnishings into the air and left them levitating three feet off the ground. "Now master, that just isn't fair, you're cheating." "I know, fun isn't it?" Admar laughed  
"Enough of this, Admar, my old friend," said Novanus. "Let's get you inside and get you something to eat." "Oh that reminds me, master, I remembered you said you had a few mortals with you so I brought a few things from the pantry at home, it's not much, just a roast chicken and a few other things." "Admar, I think you are about to instantly make a few friends." Novanus clasped his friend around the shoulder and went inside the temple, the heap of goods following through the air behind them.   
Inside the Temple, Izael, Gadorian, and Lessa were resting in the main Hall.   
"Everyone, this is Admar and he has been kind enough to bring us a few treats." Novanus levitated the objects in front of him, and placed them all down perfectly around the room, winking at Gadorian as he did. "God I love winding him up," thought Novanus to himself. "I wonder if he realizes I'm not as pompous as he thinks I am."  
"Also," Novanus addressed Izael, "Admar has brought, for those who want it, a roast chicken and a few other foods." Novanus clapped Admar on the shoulder. "Eat, my friends, otherwise you won't grow up to be big and strong." Novanus smiled broadly. "Where's Lent?" "Tending to Kain," said Lessa. Novanus nodded, left the Hall and walked to the impromptu crypt.


	9. Chapter 9

Friendly Conversations and Serious Decisions

Lessa watched Novanus leave the chamber and turned to talk to Admar. "Does Novanus always like to wind people up, or is it just me?" "Yes, you're right m'lady, but especially Gadorian," replied Admar with a chuckle while tucking into the chicken. "You are a puzzle to me, Admar. You serve Novanus even knowing what we are. I am made to wonder why? I have known many of your kind in the past that would have run a mile. True, Moebius manipulates most, but all the same, why do you follow him as you would a friend?" Lessa asked, sitting down on a couch, motioning Admar to sit next to her as she did so.   
Admar sat ready to tell his story. He liked this female vampire. "Well...… Tw'er many years ago if you must know. I had just begun my apprenticeship as a merchant. My father, truth be told, was a member of the Merchants Guild and he had put a good word in for me with the merchant I was to train with, at a cost of course. Anyway after just two years of my apprenticeship my father died in debt. Having neglecting me for the past twelve years of my life he had sold everything but his soul to see me through my time with the merchant, as way of recompense. Even at the extent of his own business. With no one to pay for me the merchant turned me out with nothing but the clothes I had on my back.   
"I fell to the gutter and stayed there with Thieves, murderers, whores and other wasters, for the next two years. During that time I had fallen in with a gang of thieves. Now during the years of neglect I suffered I began to steal as a feeble attempt to get the attention of my father. I became well skilled in picking locks, cat burglary and general thievery, so when the thieves asked if I could lend them a hand I did the occasional job with them.  
"One job I did them went so wrong that we ended up with the Sarafan on us. We'd tried to get some of these precious artifacts from the Sarafan stronghold. In our escape we were running along the ramparts and I tripped and fell over. But I didn't fall. I sat in the air but not falling. It was then that my Lord Novanus appeared out of the sky and decapitated the two Sarafan who were chasing me. He landed on the rampart, turned to me and said, 'What will you give me if I save you from the fall, the Sarafan and any other evils which may befall you for the rest of your natural days?' I could barely speak but I managed to regain my voice and say, 'My Lord I would give you my very life.' To which he replied 'Done,' smiled and leapt into the air beside me. He took me to his home and there I served him. But then about twelve years ago he said to me, 'You are released of your bond to me.' He set me free. But I serve him still. I owe him everything.  
"And that, my Lady, is how and why I serve My Lord." "I see. Well you seem a good friend as any mortal can be to us. I am Lessa sired of Vorador," replied Lessa to the man's story. He was as nice as a mortal could look to a vampire before becoming a food interest anyway. "Well if you will excuse me Admar, I am going to see where your master has got to." Lessa rose and with a nod left to find Novanus in the crypt.  
Lessa walked down the hallway again and came to the door to the crypt. The smell of fresh blood swept out but it did not entice her, she had fed well. Lent was just finishing feeding Kain and Novanus was talking of something to him.  
"You're taking your time Novanus, your guests are missing you," said Lessa as she strode into the large crypt. The crypt was a large domed room with paintings depicting various scenes of the Ancients. Lessa knew of them of course as Vorador had been her sire, and an ancient his.   
Lessa walked up to Novanus. "There was something I wanted your advice on Novanus. I'm sure you know of the healing power of my blood, Vorador probably told you. I could probably rouse Kain quicker if I let him drink of me, but I would not like to disrupt your plans. You are wiser in this time than I, and know the dangers that come. What would you have me do?" asked Lessa, looking Novanus in the eyes.  
Novanus was about to answer when Lent butted in. "You must feed him, do it now, vampire. You must wake your lord. What do you wait for?" Lent shouted full of excitement that his Lord would rise quicker with this vampire's blood, and confused as to why she did not slit her wrists and feed Kain...

"I would agree with Lent. I had all but forgotten your remarkable healing abilities. However, don't let him feed for too long. Give him a small infusion of your blood. Then if the process works, we can do it again." Novanus turned to Lent. "Lent, you must realize that it is not just Kain's body that is damaged, but also his mind. I have seen vampires in worse physical states than your master walking around quite happily. Kain's mind is damaged. I have caught flickers of consciousness from him but only very faint. I will have to think of the best way to awaken his dormant mind. Now, Lessa, let us see what your blood can do for Kain." Novanus stepped back, allowing Lessa near the bier that bore Kain. "Don't worry, I won't let any harm befall you."

Izael was quite amazed. How on earth could such a party be HERE? It looked like the vampires were capable of doing anything. However, he couldn't relax here in the middle of his enemies (and Izael had sworn an oath not to drink when he had joined the brotherhood, though he had "understood" it as not to get drunk). So, after eating a few things he was bored. He decided to seek a silent corner where to read the two books he had stolen from the Library. So Izael walked over to Gadorian and spoke, "Is there a place where I could read all these books? I am in no mood of a party with vampires, as you must understand. Heck, I still don't fully trust even YOU. Oh, and if you could, sire, get me armor. I feel so unsafe without a full-plate."

Novanus left the crypt, and Lent soon followed carrying Lessa. "I won't let any harm befall you," Novanus had said. None of them realized the frenzy of Kain, and how he would not be denied a decent amount of blood. "Could have been worse," Lent said, trying to comfort Novanus, "It's not your fault." Lent put Lessa down carefully on the couch, slit his wrist and poured a few drops of blood on her lips. "That won't be necessary," Novanus said. "I know," Lent replied, "But it's my duty."

Lessa stirred and rose. "Feeling better?" Novanus asked. "What happened?"  
"Kain fed and took more than his share from you," Novanus replied. "Let's not do that again," Lent said. Novanus and Lessa were both shocked at this. Why a vampire worshipper would not try again to wake his master was beyond them. "There are so few of you left," said Lent, "we must covet what numbers we have left."  
Lent wrapped up his fresh wound. A scent of blood still wafted from the air, the scent of Vorador. Looking around the room Lent had noticed a few more mortals had joined his party. More importantly, the heir of the Serioli was here too. Lent looked disgusted. "What is he doing here?" Lent asked with contempt. "He's here to help," Novanus said. "You trust that fiend? Just last week he would have attempted to kill us all and not thought twice about it, now you enlist his service?" "It's not your concern," Lessa said. "And you're with him as well, child of Vorador? Have you forgotten the words of your master? 'Trust not a man who betrays his own master, nor take him into his service; lest he betray you too.' He is the descendant of the Serioli, and he's taken the oath of the Sarafan. This man changes sides like a human changes loin cloths, it's in his blood."  
Novanus and Lessa didn't respond. Lent glared at the two of them and stormed off, "Your recklessness will spell your demise, Novanus." He didn't like this at all. This betrayer could jeopardize Kain's safety. Whatever Novanus was planning with this Serioli and Nerayan, he wanted no part in it. Lent returned to a small quarter he had made for himself in the temple. It was humble but it suited his needs. It had a bed, a small desk, and candles. Lent sat on the desk and gave a sigh as he set down ink, a quill, and a large textbook bearing the mark of Vorador. This was the diary of his ancestors, all of them. In it contained the history of his family, the history of vampires, the history of men, written in ancient Nosgoth blood script. Lent calmed himself and quietly turned the pages to the last one. It was blank... his page... the last page. He had always wondered what he would write on there one day, but now he wondered if he would actually be the last one to write something down. With no sons or daughters, he could not carry on his bloodline. His family name would die with him, his bloodline would be erased, and all that remained was this book, its pages near rotted. It was fitting that the number of pages ended with his bloodline, ironically fitting. He could not stand to dwell on it any longer. He put the book away, and left the room to train. Training for battle had always helped him clear his mind, and he had more than enough on it.

Lessa sat up on the couch to talk to Novanus, she felt light headed but what was left of her blood was already healing her slit wrists. She would have to feed again later. "We could try again Novanus, but next time I'll put it in a chalice and not directly from me, Lent can collect some more when I have fed," Lessa rose to find food and turned back to Novanus. "And don't worry, it wasn't you fault." Smiling, Lessa bent down and kissed him on the cheek, and turning went up to the pimp and proceeded to rip his throat out and drink him dry.

Gadorian pushed his hair out of his eyes and peered down at Izael. "Armor? Psht. And your apprehension? You realize you would be long dead already if any one of us wished it." Still, Gadorian understood the boy's sentiments, and realized the request was entirely reasonable. Although there had been friction between himself and Novanus in the past, he knew that they would have to work together, and understood that Novanus saw the significance of Izael and the sword as well as he did.

Then he considered the great volume of mortals brought up for the party. Although he appreciated the offering, and the worshipper was certainly as thorough as possible in covering his tracks, it was still a risk for that many humans to be brought to a place so sacred. A surprise attack could come at any moment, and this human was less...durable...than Gadorian and his fellow vampires. He nearly wept when he thought of Lent and his hatred for this boy. Everyone was clearly alarmed by his association with the Sarafan, but the vampires had forgiven him that. Lent's malice, however, grew from his knowledge of the sword's origin and Izael's lineage. Would the vampire-worshipper even listen if he were to tell him that whatever masters he had listened to, all the tomes he had studied with fanatic zeal, were wrong about the sacred sword and its human bearer? History is written by the victors, and thus it seemed that the existence of the sword's true original champion had been wiped entirely from its pages. He would try to heal the wounds hate had wrought, but perhaps there was no hope in this cause. Gadorian again turned his attention to Izael.  
"Follow me." Gadorian walked to the atrium and through a partially hidden door, Izael following close behind. He led the Sarafan interminably deep into the mountain, although they covered hardly a fraction of the full area of the temple. Finally, they reached a small room covered in a glass-like dome, invisible from the outside. Gadorian lit the lanterns in the room, set down some food he had taken from upstairs, and a few small books of his own he had been carrying inside his cloak. He left the room for a few minutes and returned with an ancient yet formidable looking suit of black armor, etched with blood red runes. The moonlight shone off the armor as if it was polished obsidian, but the sound it made against the stone floor was clearly metallic.  
"Here. I will come to fetch you by midday tomorrow. I suggest you not leave this room. The temple is a labyrinth which has claimed even vampires, and many more humans...And…I understand why you may not trust me, but if ever you doubt, just look to the sword." Gadorian began his ascent towards the others. He felt so different than before, filled with a sense of purpose, of valor, since he held the sword. The flood of memories contained inside the weapon echoed through his mind, though each was no more substantial than a shooting star. The most palpable memories that began to return to him were entirely his own. He looked around inside the temple, at its pillars and archways, its murals and altars. He was home again.


	10. Chapter 10

Lent's Uneasiness

Hours passed, and although Lent trained as hard as ever, he could not find the closure that he needed. After a nice bath, Lent made his way down the dark halls of the temple and stopped. "Must you always hide in the shadows before approaching someone, Gadorian?" "How did you know it was me?" Gadorian asked. "I can always tell when a vampire is near, I get a distinct feeling for each vampire that I can't explain. And I never forget a vampire." "I want to talk to you about Izael," Gadorian said. "Don't waste your breath," Lent responded, "Whatever you all are planning with him is your business, and not mine. My business is tending to Kain, providing meals for you all, and protecting you when daylight comes. That is the job of a vampire worshiper; the Loki tradition kept for..." Lent stopped. He hated to talk about his heritage, just another reminder that it was ending. "It doesn't matter."  
"I have seen many worshippers in my years, and none as crafty as you," said Gadorian. Lent replied, "You didn't come here to give me thanks. So I ask you, what do you want of me?" "Izael is...not quite what you think he is." Lent continued training, not flinching a bit at Gadorian's words. Gadorian continued, "I know more about the sword than anyone else alive ever could. You must believe me on that. The story I am about to tell you is contained in no book or tome of history; the very nature of these events demanded they remain entirely secret. The sword bearer, Izael, is not of the line of the Serioli chief, though what you know of the chief's greed and betrayal is accurate. Furious that he had been passed over for the privilege of wielding the sword" ...Gadorian was nearly choked up as he recovered the painful memory he had sought for so many years to repress... "he killed its intended wielder, one of the first brood of humans given the gift by the ancients, and stole the sword. The tomes then tell that the chief slaughtered the champion's human son, still no more than a child, and that the sword passed down his line through the hands of vampire-hunters."   
Lent still acted as if he heard nothing, though Gadorian sensed he was very upset by his words. "The chief did kill a child, an infant. He thought it to be the rightful heir and thus his enemy. But the child was an imposter...The vampiric guardian of the sword, confused and seeking a way to protect its integrity, sought out an innocent babe to replace that of the true blade's heir. The chief slaughtered this innocent and believed his mission done.  
"The vampire took the child he had saved and raised him till he was a youth, teaching him to fight and use fierce magic, all the while instructing him of his true destiny, for the boy was far wiser than his years suggested. He then, under the guise of a human, brought the boy back and entreated the chief to adopt him. The vampire had since succeeded in assassinating all of the chief's other children, and thus he was eager for a worthy heir.  
"The sword thus passed through the human hands the ancients had intended for it, and its vampiric guardian watched over them, guiding them and telling them of the truth, though urging them to keep it a secret, for fear that their tribesmen would rebel at he who was the descendent of the one that their glorious chief of legend had slain. Few of the ancients remained alive by this time, and most of those that did shut themselves away in the citadel. Still, hope remained to reconcile the alliance that was so cruelly destroyed when the chief's sword pierced the champion's heart. The wisest decided to wait until the time was right before revealing the truth. So the story continued for centuries, while the ancients waited for a time to rebuild the failing trust between the humans and vampires, what with the human pillar guardians who were forced the gift against their will, ignorant of its necessity. And thus it continued until the pillars of time and death, Moebius and Mortanius, refu—"  
"Enough!" Lent shouted, nearly rupturing his throat with the violence of his call. "Enough..." Gadorian walked back out towards the balcony and watched the stars over Meridian. He felt a slight tingling on his cheek. The drop fell from his eye, though it was not of blood, as vampire tears are, but salt and water...

Lent stopped training, and took notice of Gadorian's tears. He then remembered that Gadorian had also grabbed a bottle of wine earlier. He had heard rumors of a vampire who had human traits. Some believed they were vampils, a vampire born of a human woman. But Lent knew that all vampires were sterile. "You switched the infants, didn't you?" Lent asked. "I can see it in your eyes. You're the vampiric guardian of the Serioli blade." Lent then understood why Gadorian carried human traits - he was the very embodiment of the alliance between the two races. Gadorian looked down painfully, and Lent knew he had crossed too far mentioning the child. "I'm sorry" Lent said. Gadorian shook his head, forgiving Lent's insolence. Few things in this world are held precious, and innocence is one of them. It is a sin among vampires to kill a child, and this was a pain that Gadorian had carried an eternity. "I'd like to help you," Lent said, "But my place is with Kain. I will serve him until I die. I hope you understand."

"I understand your pain, Gadorian. I remember what you suffered." Novanus walked out of the shadows and walked towards the weeping vampire and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder. Novanus turned to Lent, "I was the seer and high priest to the Serioli. The link between the tribe and the Ancients whom we worshiped. I was also the first victim of the chief Astical. Astical had been a young, proud and somewhat rash leader to the tribe and when I learned his designs on the blade he killed me. That was when the Ancients passed on their gift to me. However they prevented me from interfering with Astical's actions. I couldn't stop his actions, couldn't protect my tribe from what was to happen. They told me my time was to come and so I was forced to watch events unfold.  
"You know that Izael is the protector of the blade but you do not know the true purpose of the blade. It is the key to maintaining a barrier between this world and a plane of existence where only one entity resides. The Nerayan is a plane of existence of great suffering, the creatures who exist there were formerly human, but at the time of their deaths passed away possessing the most negative of minds. Such minds are those reborn into this underworld. And as grains of sand become the desert, so did the minds of this realm merge, forming the Wraithen, a collective mental entity. Should that entity break through into this dimension, it would leave nothing with any form of intelligence living or dead. Izael is eminently important at this time. I realize you have your charge in Kain but what we are doing here is very important and should we fail, it won't matter how well you looked after my old friend in there. We will be dead."  
Novanus left Gadorian and Lent and wandered through to his old private sanctum. He approached the small altar and knelt down. He needed time to recuperate and focus on the events of the past few days. It had all happened so quickly. Novanus hoped that a brief period of meditation would help him focus on what would have to be done. He had so much to attend to.  
Gadorian would help train Izael but he could only take things so far. That was no disrespect to Gadorian. Although his unique history gave him a certain affinity to both the blade and Izael, his knowledge was incomplete. Novanus had help forge the blade, he knew its true secrets. Gadorian's charge was to protect the bearer of the blade. The Sword was only part of the key which held the barrier between that accursed realm and his own. There were other factors to consider, one other artifact would need to be recovered. That journey alone would be arduous but there were rituals which would need to be performed, ones that he alone would have to attend to.  
The degradation of the pillars was the only aspect that could attribute to what was happening. With the unbalanced pillars everything in the world was in a state of flux. The magic that Novanus would have to perform would partly involve drawing from the same universal essence from which the Pillars drew their immeasurable power. The thought of performing the ritual without the aid of his Ancient masters was daunting at best. Healing the Pillars was another option which would reseal the fabric of the barrier between worlds. Unfortunately the only one who had any hope of healing the Pillars now lay in the improvised crypt in the scriptorium. Novanus' mind turned to another problem.

Lent would still probably be a problem. Izael's presence was obviously a cause of annoyance to the vampire worshipper. He did not understand the complexity of the situation that he was involved in. Kain had been his primary charge for so long that the vampire servant had lost sight of the importance of anything else. He would need his perspective readjusted.  
Lessa had nearly lost her life to Kain's insatiable blood lust. It had taken a severe telekinetic blow from Novanus to make the vampire release Lessa but in the brief moments of lucidity that he could make out from Kain, he had sensed the Kain that he had known centuries before. How well he remembered his old companion and the way they had spent their time traveling Nosgoth without any care. They had done whatever they wanted feeding till they were glutted and enjoying themselves. In every city they tempted the Sarafan, leading them on a merry dance only to turn around and hunt the hunters. Kain had been the only one in centuries who had the same passion for the gift of Vampirism as he. And now that same vampire lay almost completely helpless under the very same roof as he.


	11. Chapter 11

Ritual of Purification

Novanus stood up. He would have to perform the ritual soon. He had no idea how far the barrier had failed. The sooner he started, the better. Novanus walked over to his mantelpiece and opened the ornate box which sat on top of it. Inside lay a beautifully crafted knife. Its blade was inlaid with intricate runes written in gold. It was also split leaving a gap of around one centimeter between each of its two parts. The hilt sported a two-headed serpent which ran all the way up the handle to its tail. This was the ritual blade of the ancients. It held unknown power and would be the key to the barrier which would seal away the Nerayan. Novanus took it out of its case and placed it within the folds of his coat. With a look out of the window and the rocky peaks beyond it, Novanus left his inner sanctum and set off to the high altar.

Lessa had returned to Kain's chamber to check on him. She was amazed when she looked upon him, his face and hair had already regenerated. The rest of his body remained the same. It was then that she figured out that which had been crying for attention in the back of her mind. "Where was the Soul Reaver?" She decided she would ask Lent this. As she left the chamber, Lessa ran into Admar. He looked annoyed about something. "What's wrong Admar? You look as though you lost something." "In all this excitement my horse has bolted, I have to be back by morning to open up. How am I going to get home now?" replied Admar with a sigh. "Don't worry, my friend. I'll take you back." "You're sure, Lessa? I don't want to take up your time." "No, that's alright. I need some air and besides Seth needs feeding, he likes some wild boar and we go through a wood that is full of them. You go and tell Novanus what's going on, I need to speak with Lent a moment, I'll meet you in the main hall." With that, Lessa turned towards Lent's quarters.  
Lessa walked into Lent's room to find Lent and Gadorian there. "I'm sorry Gad, I didn't mean to interrupt you two." Lessa turned to leave but was stopped by Lent's voice. What are you doing with that sword?" Lent demanded, rushing forward to take the Flame Sword. Lessa stopped him dead, locking his muscles. "Careful Lent," Lessa warned with a growl. Lent defiantly said, "That sword belongs to Kain, you must give it to me." "Kain discarded it in Avernus years ago. I claimed it after he had discarded it, and tell me, why would he need it? He has the Soul Reaver, doesn't he?" snarled Lessa, releasing Lent.

Novanus walked through the immense archway towards the high altar. Walking through the citadel he felt awash with memories, emotions and other sensations that awakened a reaction within his very soul. Instead of approaching the high alter, however, he stopped instead about fifteen feet from it directly beneath the dome of the Citadel.  
He had changed into ceremonial robes which was law among his tribe when in a Holy place. Unlike the simple robes which sported the symbol of the Ancients, Novanus', as Seer of the tribe, had other diagrams and occult symbols on it. And thus he stood in the citadel a servant of the Ancients. Novanus took out the knife from his sash and placed it with its point to the altar, in front of him. He then placed two small bowls of blood at right angles from the blood about a meter away from him.  
Novanus began to chant and after a few minutes he started to levitate. The knife began to take on a strange ethereal glow. Novanus' chant grew quicker in pace and seemed to be coming from more than one voice as if the many voices were all being spoken by the vampire.  
The bowls of blood twitched as the blood within began to snake into the air towards the knife. As Novanus chanted faster and louder the snakes of blood shot into the blade, instantly absorbed. The dagger shot forward and floated two feet above the altar. A piercing light lanced through the citadel dome and struck the knife. As quickly as it had begun, so did it disappear and the blade flew into Novanus' out held hand. "The blade is imbued," said Novanus as he raised the dagger up. Novanus stood up and walked to the vestry where he telekinetically threw his robes on the wall. With that he rushed to his chamber, his right and left arms bleeding profusely, the blade still in hand.

Izael didn't know how long he had been in the chamber. He had read all the tomes he had stolen, slept, and ate. He thought he had been in that small, strange room for weeks. However, now that he had followed the instructions sent into his mind by Gadorian, and now that he had found his way back to the...inhabited areas of the temple, it seemed like he had been away for ten minutes. The party was still going on, though most of the mortals were missing. It was still night. Izael wondered if that chamber had been a dream. His only proof of the encounter was that he was now wearing the armor Gadorian had given him, his mind full of records that proved Gadorian's every word, whispers coursing through Izael's mind. The first book he read, which contained information regarding the Pillars and Rise and Fall of Kain had told him everything he needed. Kain was evil, yes, but so was Sarafan Lord. However, the Pillars were created to do good, and it had been humans, not vampires, who had started the events that started the long war. On the other book, Izael had found techniques on how to prevent his mind from being read by vampires, psionic abilities (such as how to sense a vampire) etc. Although Izael doubted if they'd work against these ancient and enormously powerful vampires here, now he at least stood a chance. Izael stopped. He was supposed to meet Gadorian here soon. He would learn all the secrets of the Sword he carried. And then, perhaps, he could put this eternal hatred to its end. Forever.

Lent looked at Lessa, silently asking if she had had enough fun with him. As if reading his mind, she let him down. "I meant no disrespect, cousin of mine," said Lent, "You can keep the sword. It won't be any use to Kain now." "And the Reaver?" Lessa asked. "Where else would it be but in the foul hands of the Sarafan Lord?" Lessa looked disgusted at the fact. Lent was hurt, nothing like physical pain, but his pride was. Lessa was the closest person he had to a living relative, even if she was a vampire. He disliked being pushed around like a doll, especially by her. These vampires treated him sometimes as if he would actually do them harm. Lent shook his head. "What is it?" Lessa asked. "It's a shame that we, in this temple, are forced by fate to be an unlikely set of allies. If we do not trust one another, then what hope do we have?" Lent sighed.

He had hated Izael for the wrong reasons and found himself wondering where the boy's loyalty was. Izael had no loyalty to the vampire race, and had no reason to trust them either. Lent also believed Izael had no loyalty to the Sarafan any more or he would have sacrificed himself before ever coming to this temple. Only time would tell if trust could be earned and given by all members of this odd party.   
Lent had seen the mistrust Lessa showed him, Lent's mistrust for Izael, and Izael's mistrust of all. Such a circle of distrust could only lead to deceit and disaster. Still, he recalled the quarrel between Novanus and Gadorian. It seemed those two had a bitter past. But in this moment of crisis, they managed to set aside their differences for the greater good. Lent then knew he would have to set aside his pride, whatever he held against Izael would now have be put to rest.  
"I will help you, for Nosgoth's sake, and for the honor of the vampire race." Lent kneeled before Gadorian and Lessa. Never before had he felt such purpose. "You realize that this is an extremely dangerous situation for vampires, and that you'll probably not live through it?" Gadorian asked. "Better to die at peace than an eternity of suffering," Lent replied.

Novanus sat staring into the flames in the fireplace in front of him. His arms were neatly bandaged for the short time they needed to heal. The imbuing had not only required the blood of a mortal but also Novanus' own, as a form of tribute to the Ancients. He needed to feed.  
The ritual had taken a lot of Novanus' energy, leaving him feeling weak, frail even. The magic he had performed this evening had been very powerful. Even though he had only had a short amount of time in contact with the energy of the pillars, that small time had stretched the limits of his self control not to become too involved. To do so would have been dangerous to the extent that Novanus could have lost himself for good.  
There was a knock on the door. "My Lord? My Lord, are you in there?" Novanus did not have the strength to get up and open the door. In fact it was a miracle that he had managed to return to his rooms. He had wrapped his arms tightly so that he had not left a trail of blood from the citadel to his rooms. Admar would only worry unnecessarily.  
"My lord, are you inside?" Admar's voice came again. Novanus opened the door telekinetically. Admar stepped into the room. "Master, you look awful." Admar walked over and knelt beside Novanus. "What happened to your arms, sir?" "Nothing, Admar, don't worry about me. I just need to feed." "Well then we must get you down to the city as soon as possible. You look incredibly pale." Admar stood and walked over to the fire, warming his hands. "I came to see you about going down to the city actually, sir. You see, my horse somehow managed two wriggle free of its halter and has bolted. Mistress Lessa has offered to take me down to the city but if you are intending to go maybe she needn't." "Give me an hour, Admar, and I'll take you. I just need a little while to regain my composure." "Right you are sir." Admar turned and walked towards the door.  
"Oh, and Admar, I won't be back anytime soon. I have to make a journey, to the Pillars." Admar stopped in his tracks. "My Lord, that's near to suicide, you know that there is that Sarafan outpost right by them. You'd be committing suicide." "Don't argue with me, Admar, just accept it. Should I not return, I have made provision enough for you to live like a king. There's plenty of gold for you in those chests in my chambers. I still don't know why you insist on running that little shop of yours. You're practically king of the thieves in Meridian thanks to my help." Admar knew better than to argue with Novanus once he had his mind set on something, so he didn't bother. Instead he said, "Ah, but it's more fun running the shop. If people don't know what I'm about, my Lord, it keeps them guessing." With that, Admar turned and left the room.  
An hour passed and Novanus decided that it was time to leave. He stood up but almost instantly felt dizzy and was forced to focus his mind on stabilizing. Only the millennia of strengthening his mental gift allowed him to overcome the weakness of his body. Novanus needed blood.  
He walked to the door, keeping his balance through telekinesis and hiding his weakness which, as far as he was concerned, should not be shown to the others. He pulled his sleeves down to cover his bandaged arms and strode off to the main Hall.

Izael saw Novanus walk into the hall. He could easily see that the vampire was weak. Now would be Izael's chance to kill it. But something stayed his hand. Actually, he felt he was somehow indebted to this mysterious vampire. He walked over to Novanus. "I see you are weak." Izael took off his armored gauntlet and offered his hand to Novanus. "Here. Drink deep. You have helped me much and now is my turn to help you." "Thank you for the offer but I won't if it's all the same to you." Novanus flashed a knowing smile at Izael. "And thank you for not attacking me. It would have been a real shame to harm you." Novanus winked and looked at Izael's armor. "And where did you get you Blood Spawn armor? Not that it really matters now. I hope it protects you from what is to come. You and I shall have to have a little chat when I return. I shall be back before dawn." With that, Novanus turned and continued on his way, doubling his mental efforts to appear fine.

Gadorian walked back out towards the main hall. He saw Izael bidding farewell to a frail Novanus. The vampire was doing all he could to hide his weakness with illusions, but Gadorian saw straight through it. He nearly took the chance to harass his rival, but realized the action would deal a terrible blow to Novanus' pride. He instead pretended not to see him at all and approached Izael.  
"Good. You were able to follow my instructions and find your way out. I will tell you everything I know of the sword, and answer whatever questions you may have about it now, for the time when you may need to use it grows ever closer..."  
Gadorian told Izael all that he had earlier told Lent of the sword and its history, plus a few other secrets to be entrusted only to the one chosen by the blade. He then instructed Izael a bit in unlocking some of the hidden power, but soon realized the novice would need some in depth..."training."


	12. Chapter 12

Izael's Training and Seth's True Form

Lent watched the two, a bit confused, and leaned over to Lessa. "He told me of the weapon, that the ancients procured twin guardians for it...Gadorian has the same right to the sword as Izael, and he is much more skilled with it. Why does he not take the sword for his own?" Lessa cocked her head towards Lent, "For one who has served vampires his whole life, you ask us strange questions. Gadorian is burdened by his guilt, and feels unworthy to take the blade from Izael unless it be entirely necessary. Besides, Gadorian is a vampire many millennia old and in his unique creation was blessed by many of the most powerful ancients; Izael is a boy who has seen fewer battles than he has years. Were anything to happen, Izael would need it much more."  
Gadorian looked back at Izael, his brother in a way, yet still unable to master the blade. If he couldn't learn to wade with such guidance…Gadorian would have to throw him into the deep and force him to swim. He hoped the boy would understand. Gadorian lifted Izael into the air and held him floating over the balcony, floating precariously close to the edge. His telekinetic coils then began to wrap through the boy's body, hindering his lungs more and more with each passing moment. "Break free!" Gadorian screamed. Izael replied at first with only gasps and clawing at his throat. "Break...free!"  
Izael tried to flail his arms and legs, but to no avail. His consciousness was starting to fail, and he feared he would die here and now if he could not get another breath. Gadorian saw the desperation in his eyes, but held fast. Finally, Izael reached for the sword. At first, nothing happened, but as Izael's will became more desperate with each passing moment, it was able to awaken the blade. An ethereal white glow began to creep its way up from the hilt; at first barely noticeable, but soon gaining speed so that it seemed to consume the edge as a fire does dried crops. In another moment the sword emitted an explosion of light accompanied by a chilling, yet eerily beautiful, tone. When the flash expired, Izael stood on the balcony, his entire body consumed with the same flame that danced on the sword.

Lessa was holstering Seth when Admar walked into the large chamber where she had housed her demon Horse. "Ready to go, Admar?" Lessa asked, turning. "Yes, but my master said he would take me." "That's ok, but I still need to feed him so I...Admar, what aren't you telling me?" Lessa demanded, seeing Admar's eyes dart around. "I don't know if I should tell you but it will be suicide if he goes...Mistress he's going to the Pillars," Admar replied, looking desperately at Lessa, pleading with her to do something. Lessa laughed and murmured to herself, "Just like Vorador said, it will be the death of him." Then, seeing Admar's puzzled look, she said more loudly, "Don't worry, Admar. I will follow him at a distance. I will not be able to dissuade him from going if I remember him right, but it is my turn to make sure no harm comes to him. He is needed...I am not. My purpose died with Vorador. With that, Lessa jumped on Seth, and spurred him on. He ran to the balcony and, to Admar's surprise and horror, he jumped. "There's water down there," he thought in horror, but when he looked over the balcony he could see Lessa safely astride Seth, who was running over the water. "She has more skill than I could have imagined for one so young," he thought, and with that he returned to his master.

Novanus had seen the dramatic events that had occurred on the balcony. He walked over to Lent and whispered, "Gadorian and Izael do put on a good show, don't they?" Lent looked at Novanus and raised an eyebrow. "You don't agree?" said Novanus in a sarcastic manner. Gadorian looked at Novanus and instantly it was obvious that he knew of the other Vampire's injury. Novanus smiled, "Well done, my old friend. He has made his first step. And I sense a spirit arising within Izael. He will soon be ready." Admar walked over to Novanus. "Master," he said, "we must go." Novanus stood and nodded, smiling. He gently lifted Admar into his arms and walked to the balcony. Novanus had seen Lessa's dramatic jump over the balcony, and had decided that he would be damned if he was to allow that young one to upstage him! He stood on the balcony and walked upon his telekinetic floor out towards the city. He then removed his projection and levitated off. Lessa waited not far from the Temple. Novanus quickly reached her and the three rode off towards the city. Meanwhile Izael gasped fresh air into his lungs as the white flames quietly died down. "What on earth...How could I...Ah, never mind. I'm ready for another go!"

Lessa walked down the dark tree lined path beside Admar and Novanus. She had let Seth go off to feed, and every now and then a scream could be heard as Seth dispatched another wild boar. "He's quiet, you only know he's got one when they scream," said Admar, walking between her and Novanus. "He's quiet when he wants to be," replied Lessa. "So Vorador sired you, what were you, one of his brides?" Lessa laughed, "No, more daughter than anything." "What do you mean? What were you before?" Lessa sighed before answering, "I was the child of a wealthy family from Coorhagen. They were servants of Vorador, not unlike you. Bring food and things. Vorador had always liked me and would have made me a vampire but my father said when I had grown. One night the villagers broke in and started killing everyone inside. They had finally figured out that it was my father taking their families to Vorador. My father grabbed me and ran, but he was surrounded and they cut him down. With his last breath he called Vorador, who came and dispatched most of the mob. My father asked him to look after me until I became a woman, then embrace me. So Vorador was my father for thirteen years. He taught me how to fight and read and many other things like magic. Then when I turned eighteen he embraced me as his Vampire daughter. I served him for years, in that time I met Novanus and Kain. When the Sarafan purge began he put me in my birth-father's crypt and summoned Seth to serve me and protect me while I slept and even after I awoke."   
Suddenly a sound from behind made Admar jump, he turned to find Seth walking behind them. Admar sighed in relief and said, "By the Pillars, he made me jump," as he held his chest. "Lessa, I know Seth looks like a real horse to me, but what does he really look like?" "You really want to see?" "Yes." "Ok Admar, but don't say I didn't warn you." Then to Seth she commanded, "Show him."  
The horse's image began to blur. The black mane was no longer black, but aflame, as was his tail now. The head was not of a horse but of a reptile, shaped like that of a dragon. The teeth protruded down from the top jaw in large fangs. He was truly a demon. "Arhh, ok, I like him the other way," said a stunned Admar. With a laugh, Lessa remounted Seth and put her hand down to haul Admar up. Reluctantly he agreed, wanting to give his master a rest. Together they carried on to the city.

Lent knelt in the main hall occupying himself by carving symbols on a stone chalice that he made earlier. Although his concentration was on the magic symbols he was carving on the stone, he still let his mind drift enough to start singing a hymn his mother taught him. Lent quietly sang to himself in the ancient language while carefully working. Gadorian knew the song, and started to sing it with him. Lent looked up from his work at Gadorian, they both smiled and kept singing the song. Izael watched, no doubt with a feeling of being left out.  
"That's a pretty song, but it sounds sad," Izael said. "It's a song in the language of the ancients," said Lent. "It tells the story of the victory over the demons, the curse of the vampires, and how no one wins in a true war. My mother use to sing it to me as a nursery rhyme to help me sleep. I haven't sung that song in years." Lent took a moment to blow the dust off of the chalice.  
"I didn't know you knew magic, Lent. I haven't seen one of those in years." Gadorian said. "Not since the time of Vorador." "I don't know much magic, just a few spells to aid my master, and the ones I keep for him." Lent continued to work. "What is that?" Izael asked. "It's a blood chalice," Gadorian responded. "The chalice is blessed with a magic seal that heals it when it's broken. When a vampire drinks the blood inside of it, the chalice breaks, and then heals itself." "During the healing process, the stone bleeds and fills the chalice again," added Lent. "So vampires don't have to kill humans to survive with these chalices?" asked Izael. "No, a vampire can make them, it's part of a sacred treaty between man and vampire." Lent pointed to the symbol he was just carving. "Serioli." Izael recognized it as the main symbol of his sword. "Well, if you'll excuse me," Lent said while standing up. "I've got to put this in its place." "Not for us?" Gadorian asked. Lent motioned to Gadorian's feet. The vampire looked down to see one already there; by the time he looked up Lent had left for the crypt.


	13. Chapter 13

The City

Novanus had nearly reached the end of his endurance when the three reached the city. He needed to feed soon or he would lose consciousness. Admar looked at his master with a worried expression and whispered to Lessa. "I'm not sure how much longer he will be able to cope without blood. He's putting on the bravest face he can but I am sure he is on his last legs." Novanus looked up at his old friend. "I'm weak, Admar, not deaf." "Sorry, my Lord." "I apologize, Admar, but don't worry about me. I'll find you soon but I must go now." Novanus disappeared into the shadowy streets.   
He hadn't gone far when he came upon a drunkard who was weaving through the streets. "Not him," thought Novanus. "His blood has too many intoxicants, it would do me no good." He carried on a short while until he came upon a young prostitute. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. "Pitiful," he thought. "Fancy some fun, my Lord?" she said to him. Her turn of phrase was so guttural that it made Novanus cringe. He couldn't help his snobbish view. He took the young girl down one of the alleys. She didn't even scream as his teeth sank into the flesh of her neck.

Lent ran through the forest as fast as he could, he didn't know how many hours he had been running, but he was beyond exhaustion. Lent was an excellent runner, but this time he would not be fast enough. The certainty of that stuck in his mind like a thorn. He saw the cottage ahead of him. "Not again..." but his thoughts were cut off by the screams inside. Lent burst open the door to see a Sarafan raping his wife. The other five guards were tossing his child's dead body in the air and catching him with their swords while waiting their turn at his wife.  
Lent woke up from his nightmare with beads of sweat running down his face. Overwhelmed with emotions, he couldn't help but cry. He couldn't bear it. Lent wiped his tears and left the temple. He ran with no particular place to go, but there was nothing else for him to do. Lent ran as fast as his legs could carry him. "Faster, faster," he repeated to himself as branches reached out to strike his face as if they were small whips. Reaching a waterfall lagoon, Lent ran into the water, removing his clothes and armor, and swam down. He swam to the bottom and held his breath till he was back there at the cottage. He saw his wife and child waiting for him there smiling, and just as he approached them, Lent was swimming up for air. Gasping for breath he almost cried. This was not his time to return to them, and he knew it. But he had to see them smiling, he had to get that dream out of his mind. Crawling up to the shore, Lent was still gasping for breath. He had no idea how long he was under, but it wasn't long enough if you were to ask him. A twig snapped in the distance, and Lent grabbed his axe. He wasn't wearing any clothes, and was in no shape to fight off any Sarafan. A deer made its way out of the clearing to get a drink, and Lent let out a sigh of relief. He quickly gathered his things and made his way back to the temple.

Lessa dropped Admar off at his home. It was a large shop with a sign that read "Admar Trading" and through the windows she could see all manner of things. "There you go, Admar," Lessa said as Admar dismounted. "I'd better see where Novanus has got to, take care." "Bye Lessa," replied Admar and turned to open his shop. Lessa had turned the corner and he was alone, or so he thought. Suddenly a shadow fell across him and he turned to see a Sarafan general and five Guards. "So you have returned, foul traitor to your kind. You are to be taken before our lord," said the general in a laughing tone. With that they grabbed him. He tried to struggle. "GET OFF ME, YOU SARAFAN SCUM!"  
Lessa had left Admar and turned the corner to head for the Pillars. She could no longer feel Novanus' presence, so he must have gone on ahead already. "Huh, Novanus never considers the conse..." She was cut short by Admar's cry. Wheeling Seth around she returned to the shop to find Admar bound and on the floor with six Sarafan around him. Spurring Seth on, she ran at them full gallop and decapitated one before he knew what hit him. She jumped off Seth and landed astride Admar in a protective stance.  
"Kill the Vampire hag," one shouted and ran at her. Lessa dropped to one knee with the flame sword in her hand. As he came near, she rose, bringing the blade in a savage arc. The blade hit him in the groin, he screamed, then the blade flashed to life and he burst into flames running down the street. Another two came from either side, trying to out flank her. She blocked one blade and kicked the other coming from behind, but while she was distracted, the one whose blade she had stopped produced a dagger and stabbed her in her side. She doubled up, hissing with pain, and had to roll out of the way of the attacker's blade, who by fate had not seen his mate get up and stabbed him instead of her. Lessa's retribution was swift and the flame sword reacted to her rage and became a white hot flame. When she swiped the Sarafan, he was instantly turned to ash. Lessa pulled the blade from her side as the last of the guards rushed at her. He must have been a new recruit because he ran clumsily and held his sword low. It was no effort for her to grab him by the neck and to drink him dry.  
"You fight well, Vampire, but thou will be no match for me," said the Sarafan general with a laugh. Lessa brought her blade up. He would soon learn not to underestimate her, for he would pay with his life. With a yell he ran at her and she blocked the blade. Then, pushing his blade off, she swung her sword round to hit him from the right side. He blocked it only in time, beads of sweat showed on his brow as they continued to trade blows, and finally he made the mistake Lessa had been waiting for. She had been constantly attacking from the right and as he went to block this time she swung from the left and the flame sword met flesh, he burst into flame and ran a little way down the street before collapsing to the floor as a smoldering ruin.  
Lessa bent down and cut Admar free. "You ok?" Lessa asked as she hauled him to his feet. "Yes. But you, Lessa, I saw him stab you," Admar replied with concern. "It's nothing, but I'd better tell Novanus that you are known as a helper of vampires. Collect some things you will need, it would be best if you stayed with us." Lessa watched as he entered his home and then she contacted Novanus. "Novanus, we have a slight problem." "What is it, Lessa?" Novanus replied from wherever he was. "They know Admar helped us, I'm taking him back to sanctuary. It's not safe for him now, I..." Novanus felt Lessa cut off abruptly, he felt as though she had gasped in horror and surprise. His mind screamed, "Lessa? LESSA? WHAT'S WRONG?" The only reply he would get was a whisper full of fear, "...Soul Reaver..."

Lessa had been talking to Novanus when Admar had walked up to her serenely, then horror crossed his face. Lessa turned and what she beheld filled her with a fear she had not felt for centuries. There in front of her was a towering being, he was encased in Sarafan armor, but that was not his most noticeable trait. His head was aflame with green fire, but still that was not what scared her - it was what this being was holding, the Soul Reaver. Lessa was no fool. Quickly she ran to Seth and jumped on his back. "Admar, run," she shouted, but Admar stood rooted to the spot. "DAMN YOU, ADMAR, RUN!"  
but he still did not move. Lessa kicked Seth into motion. The Soul Reaver was coming down to claim Admar, but just before it hit, Lessa and Seth swept under the blade. Lessa grabbed Admar and lay him across the saddle in front of her. Then Seth was running, blasts where flying over her head from the Reaver, she could hear Novanus screaming for her to answer, but there was no time. Just as she thought she was safe she felt white hot fire hit her shoulder, she slumped forward and blood came forth from her mouth, her power faded, she nearly blacked out, and no longer could she hear Novanus. She held on, trusting to Seth that he would get them away. She could still feel him running as fast as he could. She held on to him, leaning over Admar, and the world went black...


	14. Chapter 14

Patient's Status: Critical

It was roughly midnight when he heard the noise. Though he was deep in the temple, Gadorian was able to faintly make out some sort of pounding near the summit. Was Izael practicing? No...some...voice, crying. Dear God. Gadorian raced up to the summit of the temple towards the entrance. He slid open the door to find Lessa slumped across her mount, and a hysterical Admar screaming for help. There wasn't much time.  
As the group entered the main room, Lent had already been roused and had run over to see what the commotion was all about. Admar was nearly hyperventilating, but manage to force out a pained cry of, "Soul...Reaver." Gadorian looked at Lessa's wound, then at Lent. With a knowing nod he confirmed that the injury was that of the legendary possessed sword. Her life was failing quickly; Gadorian had not even sensed her presence when she arrived at sanctuary. They would have to act quickly. Gadorian and Lent carried Lessa into a room and laid her on a couch. Lent left for a short while and returned with a satchel filled with strange potions and artifacts. He and Gadorian set to tending to the wound.  
Not long into their work, Gadorian stood up. "She's fading fast. She needs blood. Now." Gadorian slit his wrist and let his blood cascade into Lessa's mouth. She seemed to respond, but not very well. Blood of the living was needed to heal the undead. Admar quickly followed Gadorian's example and drained a little more than a pint into Lessa. He wrapped his wound before falling backwards and nearly passing out. Lent leaned forward and cut one of his veins to feed Lessa, however it was not long before Gadorian held his hand out, stopping him. "What are you doing!" cried Lent. "She could die!" "Yes, I know. And just for that reason, I need you conscious to help me save her. No one can heal a vampire more than a worshipper."   
The two continued their work for another hour, applying spell, tool, and potion to the dying vampire, but progress was slow. "She needs more blood. She won't make it," concluded Lent. "You can't give any more, or we could lose it all," responded Gadorian. He sat forward, pondering the situation. How could she be saved? Lent had again picked up his knife, ready to sacrifice his life for Lessa, when Gadorian shot up. "The chalice!" Gadorian procured from his cloak the chalice Lent had given to him previously. Holding it up to Lessa's lips, her body was still strong enough to react by drinking the blood inside.   
Izael peeked his head into the room slowly. "Will she make it?" he asked, softly. Lent leaned over her, before looking up. "She'll...survive." It was near dawn, and everyone had already turned in. Even Izael, the Serioli in training, had turned in. He too, it seemed, had become nocturnal like the rest of them. Lent sat on the ground, next to the couch that held Lessa's sleeping body. She had been out for hours, and probably wouldn't arise till midnight the next day. She got lucky. Lent laid his head back and closed his eyes.  
"Busy day?" a woman's voice said. Lent opened his eyes and he was home. He smiled as he saw the pregnant woman. "Oh Sugar, I've missed you," Lent said as he fell in her arms. "How's my boy?" He asked while touching her stomach. "Oh, I'm sure he's just fine." Sugar Magnolia said as she sat in his lap. "Oomph, you're getting big!" "Lent!" she exclaimed while playfully hitting him. "I was talking to the baby," Lent said, making his wife feel better. "Aww," she said as they kissed. "What are you doing?" Sugar said coldly; the feeling of a knife pressed up against Lent's throat.  
Lent awoke to see Lessa's cold stare; his lips pressed to hers. Lent was so speechless he waited for her to push him off. Remembering she was weak, he quickly got up off of her. His face was paler than usual, and the taste of his blood was on his lips. Lent tried to get the words out to explain his actions, but all he could do was stand there with a blank look on his face. "Although I appreciate the blood, there are other ways to give it to me, worshipper." "I'm so sorry," Lent said and fell to the ground before her. "Get up, Lent," Lessa said in a weak voice. She tried to sit up and could not. Her mind was a jumble flashes of things and of pain. She slid the knife back and watched as Lent got up. She had no idea what had possessed Lent to do that, but he looked just as shocked. She would not press him but as she couldn't move she decided to ask. "Lent, what in the name of the Pillars was that about?"

Novanus flew towards the Pillars. He had fed off another waster who had lain in the streets and now felt as if he had awoken from a long sleep. His body brimmed with energy ready for the next part of the ritual.   
"Soul Reaver." The fact that Lessa had said those words before she had been cut off could mean only one thing. The prospect of Lessa having fallen to that flame haired freak was unimaginable to Novanus. Although he couldn't sense her mind he could feel the faint flutter of something against his consciousness. She was still alive. He could feel it. And what had happened to Admar? Was he safe? Novanus would have to wait until he returned to the temple to discover that.  
The sky was clear, and Novanus could see for miles with only the feathery clouds occasionally blocking the star-studded canopy above. On the horizon ahead, Novanus could see the Pillars reaching into the night. After not too long, the orangey glow of the Sarafan academy also began to be visible. It was the proximity of the academy which would cause Novanus problems. Although the place was filled with trainees there were some of the most skilled swordsmen and mages that were in Nosgoth, never mind the Sarafan order. Glyph gates and that accursed armor they wore filled the place. Novanus may have been able to fool the eyes and mind of a man, but his abilities could do nothing against that armor. He would have to be very careful everywhere he went. Novanus corkscrewed down to a forest below and landed under the cover of the trees' branches.

Lent's words stumbled out of his mouth as he tried in vain to explain his actions. "I...I was dreaming. I...I didn't know it was you." Lessa looked at him, expecting more. "M-my wife. I was dreaming of her." "Does your wife know you kiss vampires, Lent?" she asked. "She's dead," Lent said mournfully. "The Sarafan..." Lessa could see that the memory was painful. "Tell me," she prodded. Lent told her of his wife, his child, and how the Sarafan had taken everything from him one night. "I arrived there too late. My son was dead and my wife..." Lent tried to hide the tears. "I was too late to save her too." "Five guards and just you. It's amazing you survived," said Lessa. "I could be dead now for all I know. As soon as I saw what had happened I blacked out. I didn't come to till the next morning when I woke up at their grave." "You killed the guards and buried your wife and child while blacked out?" "I don't know if I killed the guards; probably, but I don't know for sure. My cottage was on fire when I came to. Ever since then I'm haunted by nightmares." "That was no nightmare, Lent." "No, that was the first dream where she wasn't being raped." "I'm sorry, Lent." "Don't be, the Sarafan have taken from us all. Besides, it is I who should apologize. I let my emotions get a hold of me, and sinned. I should be asking for your forgiveness." "No need, Lent, I have done stranger things, that I am not going to tell you about, in my time. Grief can do strange things when we sleep. I now often dream of Vorador, so you are not alone in this," Lessa replied in a kind tone. Again she tried to sit up but fell back in exhaustion and pain.

"What happened to Admar? Is he safe?" she asked. Lent walked over to make her comfortable. "Peace, Lessa, he is safe, but you are still in danger. You must sleep and let your blood heal you." Lessa laid down and shut her eyes. She knew now that Lent would not do that again and, maybe, she had helped ease the pain of his wife for him by talking about it. Now exhaustion swept over her, and as the darkness took her again she could not help but wonder if Novanus was ok...

Without the two knowing, Izael had heard the whole conversation. He couldn't remember when he had last slept, or eaten. All he could do was to ponder that question... Who was the evil side in this strange war? He had lived all his life in a black and white dream. And now, as it had turned out, there were no saints. No devils. No "evil" you could kill with a sword. There were good vampires and devious Sarafan. The Sword-saint, the Redeemer, the Sarafan Lord was evil. Izael felt he couldn't breathe. All he had believed in all his life was gone in an instant. However, there was still hope. Fate had granted him a sword which could unite all the races. The chalices could be used to sustain vampires without the necessity to kill humans. Finally, Izael felt he had a purpose. All the Sarafan lies had to be erased from the memory of the people. Another way of living could then be shown to them. And, Izael didn't stand alone. Quietly, he went to sleep for the first time in ages.

Novanus walked stealthily through the forest towards the Pillars. The closer he got to the Pillars, the greater a sense of foreboding filled him. Since he had received the dark gift, his ability to perceive the future had weakened as his other mental abilities had grown. This, needless to say, did cause Novanus a small degree of annoyance, however he had long since left that hurdle behind him.  
The trees were dense, leaving little of the sky visible and thus casting the woodland floor in darkness. Novanus walked on, his vampiric eyes allowing him to see just as well as if he were in daylight. The vampire had passed many old campfires and it began to dawn on him that he had most likely landed in an area that the Sarafan used for training. Novanus held back a string of the foulest curses he knew. "Just my luck," he said to himself. As he traveled the shadow-filled forest, Novanus reached out a tendril of thought to locate any possible Sarafan who may be in front of him. He found a group not far from him, directly in his path.  
The forest narrowed not too much further on as it abutted two faces of sheer rock. Camped at the only passable point was a group of Sarafan trainees with their sergeant. Novanus had two options: one - kill all of the camp and then possibly have more Sarafan soldiers searching for the group when they didn't report in, or two - put the entire camp to sleep and walk past them all. Novanus chose the latter. He stopped for a moment and made the mental suggestion to 'sleep' to all of the Sarafan camped. Instantly they were all lying on a heap on the floor, asleep. Novanus carried on towards the camp.  
As the trees cleared, Novanus began to see the greening glow of a ward gate. "What's a ward gate doing in a forest clearing?" he asked himself. As he approached, Novanus saw that it was not actually a ward gate. Well, not in a strict sense. It appeared the Sarafan had developed a means to compact down their ward gate technology. The generator looked quite bulky and Novanus wondered how the group had transported it down from the academy. Its green glow covered the entire camp and Novanus stood back from it as he telekinetically pushed the lever on the box down with his mind. The ward dropped and Novanus walked through the camp, lighting up a number to suits of armor as he did so. As he left the camp, Novanus reactivated the ward generator. It was not until he had traveled a mile or so before he awoke the inhabitants of the camp. Novanus didn't want to be followed.

It was dusk. Lent had tried to get some sleep after the incident, but it was no use. Rather than deal with his discontentment, he chose to wander through the fields outside of Meridian. He had wanted a chance to quiet his mind with the sounds of birds and insects about, maybe even find a chance to hunt dinner. Now, it was he who was being hunted. Lent found himself hidden in the tall grass of the field as the sound of swords slashing through the air called to him. "Find him, he will tell us where the others are," said a strange woman's voice.   
Carefully, Lent made his way through the field, so carefully. One snap of a twig and it would be all over. Lent knew better than to go back to sanctuary. If he did so it would spell disaster. It was best to lead them some where else, but where? Back to the city? "No," Lent thought, "They're here because of Lessa. They followed the direction they were leaving and now looking..."  
"I found something," said a guard. "What is it?" inquired the woman. The soldier stabbed at the ground and pulled up a mole. "Just some dumb animal." "Yes, and I see another," said the strange woman while looking at the guard. "I'm sorry, mistress," came the sheepish reply. Lent was close enough to see what was going on. The woman was of average height with dark hair. The woman, although Sarafan, ranked higher than the soldiers. 'The Sarafan are too prejudiced to let a woman out rank them,' Lent thought.  
"Don't give me excuses, give me that merchant!" the woman said angrily, showing her two fangs. A vampire! Lent tried not to gasp at the horrible paradox. A Vampire Sarafan? Lent had never heard of such a betrayal before, the whole thing was an oxymoron. The vampiress took a few steps. "He's near," she said. "I can hear his heart beat." The vampiress began to walk towards Lent, the sun was almost set and in the night she was sure to find him. Lent had to run, but where? "The falls," he thought. "It's not too far, and not in the same direction as the others."  
The vampiress kept coming towards him. He knew he would be discovered shortly. With a dash of speed, Lent took off, surprising the vampiress who was but an arm's length away from him. Lent ran as fast as he could, but he got no more than a hundred feet and she was already in front of him. "Where are you going, my play thing?" she asked with a smile. Lent already had his whistle in his mouth and sent a high pitched blast from it. The vampiress fell to the ground, screaming and covering her ears while Lent continued to run past her. The sound of a waterfall called him ahead. If he could make it, he could either try to climb up the mountain, or if worse got to worse, wade in the water till help arrived.  
Suddenly he was on the ground painfully as a heel dug into his side. "Arghh," he gasped in pain. Lent turned and looked up to find the vampiress standing before him. She swung at him. The last thing he heard before blacking out was the vampiress saying, "Take him to the Keep."


	15. Chapter 15

The Ritual of Purification Enacted

Novanus had been forced to take shelter within a small cave for the day which had given him important time to rest and prepare for the ritual that he would have to perform when night fell. The ritual of Izcarnir would infuse the Pillar which it was performed on with the same magical energy that the Ancients had originally created them with. By doing the rite upon the Pillar of Dimension, Novanus hoped to reduce the chance of the wall between the Nerayan and this realm weakening.   
As soon as the sun set over the horizon he set out from the cave. When he finally reached the Pillars, Novanus stopped within the shadows and swore. The area was full of Sarafan knights. It appeared they were traveling towards Meridian and were just securing the area to camp for the night. There were five warriors in glyph armor and a further nine without. The nine ordinary knights would be easy to dispatch without even laying a finger upon any of them. The glyph armor would be a problem; all of those knights apart from one wore their helmets, which would block Novanus' mental attacks. He would have to kill them by hand. It was just his luck that this group of accursed Sarafan would decide to camp here.  
Novanus wasted no time. With concentration, he managed to fix each of the nine knights in normal armor in his mind. Their thoughts filled his head. Just as suddenly as he had reached into their minds they fell to the ground, each of their brains dead. He ran into the pillar clearing and before the Sarafan had time to attack, picked up a fallen sword and decapitated two of the glyph knights. The other three began to circle him, their armor casting a sickening yellow glow upon the area. Novanus telekinetically drew another sword into his free hand just in time to block an overhead blow from one of the warriors.  
"You have no hope, Vampire," spat one of the knights. Novanus laughed and launched into an attack which sliced the Sarafan in two. The two remaining combatants both came at him at once. They were not a match for Novanus, not even together. Novanus began to see a great deal of humor in their futile attacks and he let out a blood curdling laugh. He began to move faster and the Sarafan struggled to keep up with him. The swords' metallic ringing filled the area before Novanus spoke out, "So sorry, boys, but I have business to attend to." Novanus ducked down and speared both of the knights through the chest. Novanus had begun to walk away before their corpses had even touched the ground.  
As he walked up to the Pillars, Novanus began to feel the sense of awe which always filled him when in the presence of the nine enormous obelisks. To think that his masters had constructed these…They stood as an eternal monument to their immeasurable power.  
The ritual itself would, Novanus hoped, not take to long. The vampire walked into the center of the semi-circular formation of the Pillars. He knelt down and began to chant in the language of the Ancients. After fifteen minutes or so, the air began to feel alive, filled with the sound of humming which was now being emitted from the Pillars. Novanus extracted his ritual blade. The previous ceremony had imbued the blade with the magic of the ancients, all Novanus now had to do was transfer that mystical energy into the Pillar of Dimension. Novanus approached the Pillar of Dimension and raised the knife. With a tremendous amount of effort, Novanus thrust the knife into the pillar. Novanus had not expected the lack of resistance which the pillar offered and nearly lost his balance as the blade sank up to its hilt. Beads of blood began to run down from the top of the handle and run into the pillar, where it was absorbed, leaving no trace. Slowly the blade began to remove itself from the pillar and as it left, a brilliant white spread from the blade's point and began to eradicate the grey color which had slowly demonstrated the degradation of the Pillars over the millennia. This was how Novanus remembered the pillars from his mortality - pure and clean. The white from the Dimension Pillar spread and soon all nine pillars stood bright and shining.  
Novanus stood up holding the ritual blade knife. The ritual was done and the Pillars were temporarily cleansed. They would still degrade, that was inevitable until Kain worked out a means to heal them. However Novanus hoped he had bought some time and sealed the Nerayan away, until Izael could fulfill his destiny. Novanus turned and incinerated the bodies of the Sarafan he had killed. It wouldn't do to have bodies rotting in the presence of the greatest monument to his ancient masters. The vampire then sailed into the air and headed straight back to the Temple of the Ancients, avoiding both Meridian and forest.

Things were not looking very good. Lessa was wounded, Lent had been missing for far too long, and Novanus had yet to return. The only ones left were Gadorian and two humans, one of whom was a merchant. Soon, Gadorian was calmed, but only slightly. Novanus' voice filled his mind, "The ritual is complete. I am returning."  
Hours later he came in, walking with a psuedo-regal strut worthy of a king. Gadorian told him all that had happened regarding Lessa and Admar. Izael stood off to the side, listening. "What worries me most is Lent. He left a few days ago, as is his nature, with no explanation. But he's never stayed out this long before." Novanus pondered the situation for a few seconds before spitting out his reply, "Let the filthy human rot, wherever he is. It's his own fault for getting into such a predicament." Gadorian responded with only a glare. "Oh surely you know I was kidding. What have the ages done to your sense of humor, Gadorian?"  
Gadorian snorted back, and then resumed speaking, "Who, or what, -ever happened to him, it's not to be taken lightly. He may only be a human, but there are none fiercer than a vampire worshipper. If he's been captured, he is surely being closely guarded." Gadorian was anxious, about to burst. Rescuing Lent struck him as something more than a one person job. But who could go with him? Would he and Novanus be able to cooperate well enough to pull it off? Izael seemed too valuable to take along, for the cost of losing him would be great indeed, but then was it just as large a risk leaving him to guard Lessa? The answer eluded him.

uzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... What... what was that? Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz He sat up straight with a startled yelp, batting away the buzzing insect that hovered on swift wings around his pointed ear. There was a long pause as he listened to the animal flee, just as startled, before pressing his hands to his still-tired face. His fingers, they felt hard, like claws. He drew his hands away from his face, running one over the other. Cloven, only three fingers... now he remembered. The soil of the forest must have shifted and roused him from his cyclic slumber. He wondered what had changed on him this time. Inspecting carefully, his new hands glided up and along each limb; there, his feet. The toes were a little longer, so he would have to walk on the ball of each foot now, and that would take some getting used to. Over his robed chest and trunk, face, over the shoulders to his back... what was this?  
It felt soft and light, attached near his shoulder blade. He nearly pricked his lower lip on his sharp canine biting down upon it quizzically, crossing his arms to flex the muscles in his back. Sure enough, the new appendages shifted almost suddenly, a sound like unfurling fabric erupting from the fanning feathers. Oh dear, he had been warned of this, but so soon? Wings were far too difficult to hide, how was he going to travel now? The vampire mumbled ideas to himself as he rummaged around beside him for the staff he had laid down prior to himself, then he began plucking twigs and natural debris from the long locks of raven hair as he concocted a plan. Travel was already difficult with blind eyes and now he had two more hurdles to cross.  
Smoothing back the blackened locks from his sickly ivory face, he took the staff in hand and hoisted himself up to his new feet, pulling on the handsomely decorated pole to rise up on the balls of his feet. Hmm, this wasn't so bad, a little practice and things would be balanced. But for now he needed a safer place to test and plan out hiding these new-fangled wings. He wasn't flying, that was for sure, he thought to himself as he began walking toward the sounds of flocked birds. Where a flock was there were no humanoids, logic had always told him. Birds...he wondered if there were any birds that feared heights as he did...

After hearing of Lessa's attack, Novanus went to see the injured vampire only to find her sleeping. Novanus looked down at her slumbering form. For all her bravado, Lessa still seemed like a child to Novanus. She was young and impetuous and occasionally far too rash for her own good.  
Novanus turned on his cloven foot and walked to Gadorian. "I can sense Lent's mind but I am only picking it up very faintly. He's still alive. He's..." Novanus' eyes widened. "He's in the Sarafan Keep!" Gadorian's face looked like it had been slapped, the shock in his eyes all to apparent. "We can't abandon him!" he said. "You're right, of course, but we will have to work out some way to reach him." Novanus sat down next to Gadorian and began to think.

"Ouch," Lent said in the voice of a young boy. "Papa, that hurts!" "It's alright, Lent," his father said while finishing up his son's new tattoo. "There, all done. Now any vampire who sees you will know you are kin to Vorador. Remember, this should protect you against most vampires, not the Sarafan." "I know, papa, but Vorador died when you were my age. Our family is no longer under the protection of him, why wouldn't they eat us?" His father laughed a little. "Most vampires have a sense of honor. If they value their heritage, they shall not harm you. And vampires don't eat humans, they drink our life's blood. Sit down, Lent, let me tell you a story."   
Lent sat next to his father, looking up at him with admiration. "Well, I must have been thirteen, just as you are now. My father had taken me to Vorador's mansion to meet our ancient ancestor. I was very nervous, but Vorador welcomed me to his home. We sat, and ate dinner. After dinner Vorador gave me a gift." "What was the gift, papa?" "The blood of a vampire. We Loki have had a pact with the vampires we served, and were blessed by their bloods. Should you but taste the blood of a vampire and you'll have the strength of three men, your wounds will heal faster without the risk of infection, your life will be drawn out longer, and you'll be able to do other things you had not thought possible. Even though you've never been given the gift, the blood still flows inside of you. All you need is a little bit to awaken it."


	16. Chapter 16

Prisoner of the Sarafan

"Wake UP!" menaced a cruel voice as its owner hit Lent in the face. His body swung back and forth from the blow. "You have a visitor." The door swung open, and the vampiress stepped in. Lent took a moment to observe his surroundings. He was hanging by his wrists by a thick piece of rope connected to a beam that kept him swinging back and forth. No window, just a door, the guard, and this vampire traitor. "Hello, my dear," she said sadistically. "Are you ready for our little date?" Lent didn't say anything. "Counting on your friends to save you? You're out of reach here." She said while noticing his tattoo. "A Loki. You are a fine specimen indeed. I had thought you were but a myth." She waited for Lent to respond, but still he said nothing. "My name is Natalia, and you've probably noticed I'm a vampire." "Your name is mud, you dirty traitor." She chuckled to herself, and then punched him with her vampire might. Lent groaned. She continued her interrogation, "Tell me, where are your friends?" Lent didn't reply. "If you're counting on them saving you, you can just forget it. You're in the Sarafan keep, and the guards here are expecting your friends to attack. If they have any common sense they'll abandon you. No vampire could ever break in, or out, of here. A human has even smaller chance." "It doesn't matter, they can abandon me for all I care," Lent said. "I'll never turn traitor like you." The guard punched his face and Lent swung back and forth. "You're already a traitor to your kind, you scum," the guard said and spat in his face. Lent looked at them both, and said in the ancient language, "I am no traitor, I am Loki and have been faithful servant since before recorded time." Neither one of them understood him, but Lent got another blow to the gut. "Quit that voodoo nonsense," the guard said. "You see, my morsel, you can stay quiet all you want. It just makes this more fun for me," Natalia taunted with a sadistic grin. She ominously concluded, "I've got all night."  
The torture went on for hours. The screams of Lent deafened the nearby prisoners, but no matter what she did, he would not talk. Natalia scratched at his face, he was whipped, beaten, and cut repeatedly. After hours of this, Lent looked up at her. He was a bloody mess, and she couldn't have been more aroused by this. "Have you had enough?" she asked mockingly. "More," came Lent's defiant response. "What?" she said with surprise. "Give me more. I'll be dead, and your fun will be over," Lent reasoned. She couldn't help but smile. Lent was a mess. His blood dripped down his boots and had already made a puddle on the floor. "No, my toy. I will not kill you. This has been so much fun, we should do this again tomorrow," she said while taking her knife out. She punctured her wrists and the guard grabbed Lent's mouth. He tried to struggle, but she managed to get three drops of her blood into him. Lent knew what that meant. She intended to keep him alive and healthy so she could torture him all over again tomorrow. "See you tomorrow," she confirmed as both of them left.  
Lent hoped his companions would not attempt to rescue him. Such a thing would bring him dishonor, not to mention they'd be walking right into a trap. Still, none of them knew where he was, so they were safe in that matter. His only worry was Novanus. That egomaniac would try to break into the Keep. Lent gave a look of disgust at the thought of Novanus rescuing him. He didn't like him, he was far too reckless and eccentric. Lent would have to find his own way out of here.

Izael listened to the two vampires, and then joined the conversation. "I will go after him. If the Sarafan have Lent, they have probably taken him to the Keep, a mighty fortress that is the center of all Sarafan power. I have read many books regarding it when I was a child, and I've always wanted to visit it. I know its history, its halls, rooms, even the thickness of its walls. I am...I WAS a Sarafan, so I know all the passwords and salutations of the brotherhood. And, the Keep is far too well guarded for any of you vampires to even get near. However, it takes no effort from a human to pass through the glyph gates as you know. I know you do not trust me, but give me this chance to earn your trust! However, I will need my Sarafan armor back. What say you?"

It was early morning when the door swung open again, the sun had barely risen. Natalia walked in, and greeted Lent. "Good morning, my little Loki." She smiled as she walked around him, inspecting the wounds which had already healed due to her blood. "You are a fine specimen, not even a scar," she said while caressing his chest. Lent jerked his body away from her touch. "Still bitter, after all we've shared?" She viciously scratched his chest. "You should know better by now." "Get on with it," Lent said coldly. "Where's your sense of foreplay?" she mocked, and gave him a kiss. Lent spat in her face. Growling, she punched his jaw, and smiled. "If you're seeking death from me, you shall not get it. I find it much more amusing to keep you alive." She said while leaning against him, "You're my toy now, and I'll do with you as I see fit." She cut him loose and Lent fell to the ground. He then shot up and gave her an uppercut with his two tied hands. She fell on her back and then tripped Lent. He fell down and she was on top of him. "There is fight in you. Good, I like that." She got up and grabbed Lent's tied wrist. With her vampire strength she tossed him out of the cell.  
Lent flew to the other side of the prison, hit the opposite wall, and fell thirty feet to the hard stone ground of the keep. Natalie leaped from the cell and landed on his stomach. Lent groaned with pain. "Enough foreplay," she said. "Let our games begin." She tied Lent to a rack, binding his hands and feet. With a sadistic grin she turned the wheel as it began to stretch out. Lent felt his limbs stretching from his torso. Again and again she turned the wheel; Lent felt like a taught rope, his back didn't even touch the bed of the stretcher, he was totally suspended.  
Natalia then mounted Lent as he lay there helpless. "Tell me where your friends are, and I'll give you the death you seek," she said while cutting designs in Lent's chest with a knife. "I'd rather suffer for eternity." "That can be arranged," she said while dismounting him. Lent tried to look over at what she was doing, but his answer came all too soon. A whip came down and struck his chest. Again and again he was whipped repeatedly. Lent's strength was failing him, his muscles relaxed, but as soon as he did, the wheel turned and stretched him out further. He cried out in pain.  
"Your friends have abandoned you, they can not rescue you. Why do you protect them?" she asked. "Because, unlike you, I put others before my own life, you pathetic excuse of a vampire." Natalia was furious. She would have killed him on the spot, but she knew that's what Lent wanted. She grabbed the whip from the guard and swung at him. It must have been for hours, Lent couldn't tell, he lost all track of time. She became exhausted, and Lent was a bloody mess. "I'll leave you here to think over my offer. I'll be back tonight." She blew him a kiss before leaving the prison and Lent on the rack. He was still stretched out, and the guards looked at him with pity as they left. Her cruelness had even softened the hearts of the hardened guards. "What could you have possibly done to deserve such torture?" a prisoner asked while tied to the wall. "I'm a vampire worshipper," Lent muttered. "Huh," the prisoner said to him, "You deserve all that you get then, you traitor."

The situation vexed Gadorian more and more with each passing hour. Novanus and he would be trying to penetrate a fortress designed specifically for thwarting vampires. Izael could get inside...but, if he was caught, the loss would be phenomenal. Part of him said to forget Lent. He was a vampire worshipper; he would love nothing more than to die for the cause. Gadorian knew Lent would never give in, but he also realized that he was the bait for the most devious of traps. Deep in his heart, though, there still flowed some human blood, and it would not let him abandon one who had served the vampires so well. He would have to compromise, but he still feared he was betting too much. If his hand fell through...  
"Yes. Izael will go to the keep to rescue Lent. I will accompany you as far as the keep, where I will wait outside. You must be extremely careful, Izael, we cannot lose you. Your life no longer belongs just to you; there would be no dishonor in running to save it. I just pray that it does not come to that. Novanus, you will stay here with Lessa." Novanus' eyes burned red. It seemed as if the room itself shook with his rage. "You would risk the bearer of the Sword to save a vampire worshipper? Lent has served us well, and I do care for him, but the cost is too great! If Izael were to die, the supports holding our world together would come crumbling down and we would all be consumed by the Nerayan! There would be no Lent to save, no you, no I, no future, no Nosgoth!"  
Gadorian turned to face Novanus, "Oh yes, let us save our precious Nosgoth, in all her beauty. Our world, where one can only survive by stealing from his brother. The killer is king, the liar, his prince, and the cheater their court jester. Who would weep for our lady Nosgoth, if the sun were never to rise on her again? Shall we be the heroes who save her, but abandon our own friend? I will not fail him to save a dying world, not for mine, nor your, millennia old life! Let the fires of the abyss consume this world, I shall not fail again!"  
Gadorian turned and headed towards the door, listening for Izael to follow. He looked out upon the land before him as the sun set, for even he was surprised at the outburst of righteousness he had just displayed. He was no longer the same vampire who had met this boy on the docks that night long ago...

"Wake up, my little Loki." Lent stirred. Sometime during the day he had passed out. He now awoke back in his cell, dangling like bait on a hook. "Did you miss me?" Natalia said while stroking his chest. Lent didn't move, he was too exhausted to resist. "Oh, did I wear you out this morning? You gave me such a good time last night I couldn't help myself," she laughed. "It's alright, I'll make it all better," she said while dropping a few tears of blood from her wrist into Lent's mouth. She watched as his wounds started to close, and licked at his blood-stained chest. "Are you ready for another go? I fed early just so I could be here with you." "I'm flattered," Lent replied sarcastically. Natalia then said, "It's not often I get such amusement out of a human. You are remarkable. What is the secret of you, Loki?" "What ever do you mean?" "This one," she motioned to the guard, "if I give him but a drop of my blood he'd become my willing and obedient slave, begging me for the dark gift. But you, you put up great resistance. Such strength, you must get that from your ancestor." The wounds she inflicted earlier were practically gone, the only evidence that he was ever tortured that remained was the dried blood on his skin. "Care to tell me your secret?" Lent didn't reply. "Oh, you're ready for another round?" She smiled, "Good." She nearly gasped out of joy when she struck him first. Aside from the thud of her hitting Lent's face, the only other sounds were her sounds of joy.  
There was a knock at the door. "My lady," said another guard. "Sebastian requests your presence. He suspects a rescue attempt tonight." "Oh?" She sounded disappointed. "I guess our games will have to wait. Until then..." she said while giving him a kiss. Lent took this opportunity to bite her tongue. In an instant blood spouted and filled Lent's mouth. He managed to swallow it before she struck another blow. "Keep it," she hissed. "After we capture you friends there will be no need to keep you alive." She turned to leave. "Make sure he doesn't get lonely," she said to a guard. "I wouldn't want him missing me."   
Natalia left the guard with Lent, and this was all the opportunity Lent needed. The drops of blood she gave him healed his wounds, and the mouthful he stole from her was more than enough for his escape. The guard took a swing at him, but Lent adjusted his body weight and dodged. The guard stumbled off balance while Lent quickly put his legs around his head and used the rope that tied his feet together to strangle the guard. Hanging with his hands in the air, and the guard still caught in the ropes at his feet, Lent lifted his legs up and hung upside down, pulling the guard up with him. He grabbed the guard's sword with his hands, and then let the guard drop as his sword unsheathed. Lent quickly cut the ropes and dropped to his feet, surely a guard heard the body drop. Sure enough, a guard burst into the cell and drew his sword. The guard thrust his sword at Lent, but it was no use. With a quick twirl Lent rotated over the guard's back and quickly sliced his throat as he landed.  
"Please, help me, kind sir!" said one of the prisoners. "Aren't you the same prisoner who said I deserve being here for being a worshipper?" The prisoner stopped. "Help! Guards! The vampire worshipper is free!" Lent threw his sword at the prisoner's head, silencing him, but it was too late. The guards had heard the prisoner's cry and the alarm had been sounded.  
Lent ran, busting through the prison door, and none too soon. Sarafan Knights were everywhere looking for him. Lent managed to hide in a clean laundry cart, just as a servant came and pushed the cart up to an elevator. Lent couldn't see, but he felt like he was going up. "Great," Lent thought, "Now all I need to do is find the exit. Perhaps I can just walk right out the front gate."  
The servant got out of the elevator and pushed the cart. He could hear the guards yelling, "He must be in the basement. He's got nowhere else to go! Find him!" The cart continued to move, and finally stopped. He could hear footsteps, walking further and further away. Lent peaked up and saw that he was alone. "Lucky break." He jumped out of the cart. He had no idea where he was, nor how he was going to get out. He opened a door and to his surprise he was on the second level of the keep. He looked below, careful not to be seen, and saw guards running around on the first floor, searching for him. Lent ran through the upper halls, trying to find a way down, a way out, something. He tried several doors; all were locked. Suddenly the door handle jiggled in front of him and the door opened. A servant came out, and Lent made quick work of him. He then went inside the door and saw bows, arrows, swords, shields and armor. He had stumbled right into the Sarafan armory! Lent quickly grabbed a sword. "What's this?" Lent said while running to the other side. The moonlight beckoned him from a damaged wall, now gated up. If he could just loosen the bars he might squeeze through to freedom, if he survived the drop into the water below.  
"Going somewhere, my pet?" a familiar female voice said from behind him. "Take a good look at it, 'cause it's the last time you'll ever see the night's sky." "Natalia," Lent said with contentment. "If you think you're going to stand in my way of freedom, think again." She laughed. "What a bluff. You can't defeat me. I could make a meal out of three of you." Lent held his sword tightly. He could feel her blood course coldly through his veins, and to be honest, it felt good. His muscles seemed to be tighter, his body seemed to feel lighter, he had taken more than his share of blood from her. It was time to see if his father spoke the truth.  
They did battle, exchanging blow after blow. Blocking her attacks was devastating. When her sword struck his, it sent a vibration down to his arm that shook his bones. Lent began dogging her attacks, but she sprung up from behind him and gave him a back hand. Lent flew back to his gate of freedom, and one of the bars shook loose. Lent looked ahead and she was going to run straight through him. He had nowhere to dodge, but he didn't need to. This was the moment Lent needed. Lent grabbed her sword and moved it aside, and when her momentum hit Lent's body they both broke through the gate and plunged into the water. Lent was free, and his nemesis was dead.


	17. Chapter 17

"Rescue" Mission

Gadorian and Izael stalked the night, nearly upon the Sarafan Keep. "Gadorian, how am I to enter the keep like this? We still have not obtained any Sarafan armor!" "Silence, young one. I shall cast an illusion upon you, or perhaps we will come about a guard and take his. The details are not important, but we don't have time to—" Before he could finish his sentence, Gadorian heard some faint splash. "Izael, stop...This way." The two crept closer, towards the moat. For a while, there was no sign of movement, but eventually a tiny bubble surfaced. "There!"  
Lent heaved himself out of the moat, and coughed up what seemed like the entire ocean. Once regaining his breath, he gave a deep bow to Gadorian. Gadorian admonished, "Well! I insult Novanus and then come all this way just to find that you've escaped on your own! I must say, Lent, I'm a tad disappointed in you." Gadorian was soon alarmed by a tap on his shoulder from Izael. "Wh-what is that noise? Over in the bushes. It sounds like a dog or a cat, but it seems much too large." Gadorian leaned down over the bleeding mass. "A wounded vampire! Damn Sarafan!" Lent had gained enough breath to conjure a shout of warning: "No! She's...Traitor!"  
In a moment she was upon Gadorian, fighting with the fury of a beast about to die. The rat was cornered and left no option but to bite and claw to her last. Gadorian was surprised by the maelstrom of violence, cutting his face and nearly gouging his eyes. Hell hath no fury...  
Gadorian shot her against a tree with telekinesis, but she quickly returned even angrier. This time, however, he was ready for her, and grabbed her by the neck. Holding her still, Gadorian could make out a tattoo on her arm - the emblem of the Sarafan. Horrified that a vampire would commit such treachery, Gadorian brought her neck to his mouth and bit down so fiercely that the sinew in her neck snapped against his face. He drank her life's blood, and absorbed all the essence of her spirit, taking her skills and strengths while leaving her infirmities to rot with the corpse.  
Gadorian's body pulsed with his newly acquired power. Though she was much younger than he, the unique skills of any vampire fill even the most ancient with a sense of ecstasy. He could feel her blood pumping, pounding through him. Beat, by beat. Getting louder, stronger...closer? Through the darkness came the true source of the rhythmic thump. A small army of Sarafan had exited the keep to pursue their fleeing prisoner. "Run! I'll fight them off!" Gadorian yelled at his human companions. Izael and Lent stood fast. "Have it your way!" The trio immersed themselves into the eye of the storm, facing the tempest that was Sarafan with all their might...

Lessa awoke to find Novanus sitting on the balcony, and even in her weak state she could sense the rage coming off him. "Well," said Lessa, sitting next to him. "Someone's in a bad mood. Had a fight with Gad, have we?" She smiled at him, waiting for his answer. "Lent has been captured, and Gad, with our savior, has gone to rescue him," he replied, his eyes burning. Lessa couldn't help it, she began to giggle, then it turned into a full blown laugh. "Feeling left out, are we?" Lessa said between her hysterics. "I see nothing funny about this," replied Novanus, but soon he was laughing too. "By the Pillars, Novanus, you will never change. You always have to be where the fight is. You watch, Lent will probably get out on his own just to spite Gad. You worry too much. Besides, I have come to see that Izael is smarter than he looks. Come on, I'm starving, I think I could out-drink Vorador right now." Lessa got up and waited for Novanus to follow. He rose and they went to look for someone to eat. As they went, Lessa added with a cheeky grin, "My dear Novanus, you must learn to watch your temper, it'll be the death of someone." Their laughter could be heard echoing down the halls.

A mysterious, newly evolved vampire walked across the land. As he had approached, the flock of small birds that had led him there dispersed in a flurry of feathers and screeches. The vampire stopped short, listening to the last of the frightened avian flapping as the birds disappeared to the west, back where he had come from. What could have frightened them so? Then he heard the clanking. Clanking metals, like hinged armor. The paladins were on the road just a few yards away; his vampiric hearing must still be foggy from sleep. If the paladins were out and clamoring as such then other vampires were near. His righteous heart told him to press on and aid his brethren, and so he did.  
The kindred let instinct drive his new feet, balancing on bent knees to burst forward upon tucking his precious staff under his arm. As his hearing guided him past imposing trees and other obstacles, he kept his wings folded securely against his back. He would practice flight another day, should he ever conjure up the courage to attempt.  
He neared the scene like a diving hawk protecting its nest, passing the head of his carved staff to one hand and pulling it back to swing at the Sarafan he had pinpointed from afar with all of his might. "AhhHYAH!" He prayed his calculations had proved correct - then it would only leave him to pinpoint the next paladin, which he hoped was near. Listening like that would leave the blinded vampire open too long for a reaction if he missed.

Izael hacked left and right, dodging blows without even noticing it. He just listened to the beautiful song, the song of ancients that emanated from the sword. He saw only white light. He heard only the song. With beautiful and elegant moves, he danced through the Sarafan unharmed. No blow could reach him, for the Sword was always there, blocking enemy attacks and then counter-attacking without stopping. And suddenly it all ended, in a split-second it was all gone. A single word hung in the air. ENOUGH!  
Izael stumbled. Suddenly he realized he was staring someone in the face - a familiar face. Izael felt his courage was drained when he looked into the merciless, burning eyes. The Sarafan Lord was here. Behind the Lord, Izael could see a dozen vampires who were grinning fiercely. Then Izael realized he was on his knees. When he looked down, Izael saw the Soul Reaver's hilt that the Sarafan Lord grasped. The blade itself was deep in Izael's chest. He could see his blood running down the Reaver, being sucked away. "Do not die..." With one, desperate sweep Izael channeled all his agony through the Sword of Serioli. He could hear the Lord scream in agony. Izael could feel life leaving him. His eyes darkened. Then someone lifted him on its shoulder. "Gadorian...I am sorry... I..." Then he passed out.

The temple was empty when they made their hasty return. Lent aided the new vampire companion who had joined them while Gadorian frantically tended to Izael. "Wait here, my ancient lord," Lent spoke in the vampire tongue, and hurried to Gadorian. Without explanation, Lent cut his wrists and chanted a hymn translating as, "And may the blood of the Serioli heal all wounds," as he poured his blood over Izael's chest.  
Gadorian watched as the blood healed Izael's wound. "You are not a Serioli. How?" "I am a human, and had the blood of a vampire inside of me. It is the very embodiment of the Serioli pact." "Where did you get that blood?" Gadorian asked.   
"From the vampire traitor. She gave it to me to prolong my life so I could live through her malicious torture." With that, Lent gave up the only divinity he ever had. The vampire Natalia had given him blood that prolonged his life, and Lent gave it up to save Izael's. Lent applied pressure to his wound, but it was hard to close. The vampire blood had left him, and he was now as before, as mortal as ever.  
They waited, and Izael did not stir. "It seems it did not work," Gadorian said. Lent looked pale. "The blood heals his wounds, not his soul. Maybe Novanus can do something." Gadorian leaned over Izael, trying everything to revive Izael. His life seemed as if it would be extinguished at any moment, and yet Gadorian could not think of any way to save him. Lessa leaned forward, pulled out a knife, and prepared to slit her wrist over Izael. Gadorian's hand shot out. "No...he must remain human, for the strength of the Pact. Siring him must only be used if there is no other option."  
Novanus stepped into the room, and was appalled at the travesty before him. "Are you satisfied?" Gadorian did not look up. "Are you satisfied? Our savior is dying. Your grand plan only delivered us all to oblivion." Still he did not look up. He knew Novanus was right. He wished he had gone alone. It was no comfort to him that Lent hadn't even needed rescuing, and that Izael could be dying in vain. Just behind him, it seemed to be even less of a comfort to Lent.

Lent stood up; there was nothing more he could do. The room around him spun, he realized he had lost too much blood, darkness surrounded him, and Lent fell. Visions filled him again like they were oxygen. He saw the cottage, his wife, his new born son, and just as he approached the door, it slammed in his face and fire engulfed everything. He cried out in vain, but it was hopeless. He saw his Loki ancestors' faces, from Vorador to his own father, their faces faded into darkness, and he was alone. Desperation overwhelmed him, and in his dream he fell to his knees crying tears of blood. Voices surrounded him, "Traitor!" "Heretic!"

"No!" Lent cried out to the darkness. "They are our fallen Gods. To aid them is to seek all of our salvation." "Blasphemy! Charlatan!" He could not escape the voices. Tormented and helpless, it continued as he lay on the floor unconscious.  
"What's happening to him?" Gadorian asked frantically. It seemed they were losing two humans as well. "He's being tormented," the unknown blind vampire said. "He's a Loki, is he not? He's a holy servant of our divine cause. The closer he comes to divinity, and the deeper his commitment, the more open he is to demons of torment."

The stranger brought down the ash white staff as he knelt beside Izael, continuing, "I can heal the boy to an extent, but the Loki's demons are his own. The voices I cannot silence, only advise. He must learn on his own."  
It seemed clear now that the blur of battle and chaos was over and the kindred stranger could be viewed in better detail. Unlike most, he was clad simply in white robes of heavy, sleeveless cotton adorned with faded gold insignias lining the hems and along the front crease - a clerical style long since buried in the progressing times. He passed the exquisitely carved head of his staff over the wounded youth's body, once silvery eyes filmed over with sickly gold staring ahead as he began to mutter, then sing ever so softly. "Gi quar'valsharess pholor obok, tlu'og uns'aa dosst z'ress..." The small crystals that dangled from the wooden spiral glimmered with gentle, colored light and spilled the glow down from the tips like iridescent water over the wound. "Kus mina dosst ssinssrigg, Belbau jal dro lu' gre'as'anto..." Curling and snaking, the threads of light weaved and pulled the living flesh closed and dissipated into the dank air. The vampiric cleric fell silent, leaning back on his knees to hold his now aching head.   
Izael let out a groan and spat blood on the floor. He felt like he had been dragged from heaven back to hell. His body ached all over, he felt dizzy from blood loss and it was hard to breathe. But he could not give up. He had to live. He had promised the vampires he'd live. With great effort, he opened his eyes. At first his vision was all a blur, voices distant and muted. Then he could make out forms. A new, strange vampire was kneeling over him, with Gadorian looking worried in the back. Izael opened his mouth to speak, but managed only to hurl and vomit more blood. Finally, he could speak. His voice was like a whisper, and no-one but the strange vampire seemed to take note. "...my fault." Then darkness slammed back on him like a tomb door.


	18. Chapter 18

Sacrifice

Novanus and Lessa galloped back towards the temple astride the demonic horse. The Vampire had been troubled since Gadorian and Izael had left to rescue Lent. Although he considered Lent a valuable asset to the group, risking the life of the only possible savior of Nosgoth was foolish. Too much depended on him. Novanus looked up as he felt a spell of the ancients being worked. The power behind the spell was such that it could only be cast by one of his ancient Masters. Novanus' connection with the temple told him that the spell was being cast there. He called out to Lessa through the noise of the air rushing past their faces. "Hurry, Lessa. There is something at the temple. Something which couldn't possibly be there."  
Lessa spurred the horse onwards and the landscapes below them began to blur past at great speed. Novanus began to feel alive with new hope. With one of his masters still alive, the scales which had for so long hung in the balance had now shifted significantly in the small party's favor. Seth entered the Temple at full gallop. Lessa reigned him in and sparks flew from his hooves at the deceleration. Novanus did not wait for the great beast to stop. He jumped off, pulling Lessa with him. They ran up the flight of stairs to the main room. In the room were Gadorian, Lent, and a very weak Izael. Also, there was one Lessa had not seen before. He must have been one of the Ancients, but how could that be? The last had been Janos but he had died centuries ago, so who was this vampire?  
Gadorian was looking very concerned. "He is dying, and I know not what will save him," said the worried vampire. Lessa could feel Novanus' rage, he had predicted this would happen and looked fully ready to shout at Gadorian. Lessa laid a restraining hand on Novanus. "Not now, he is punishing himself more than you could ever do, let's see what we can do for Izael before we lay blame." Lessa walked forward and laid a hand on Gadorian's arm to comfort him, then looked at Izael. He was in a bad way. Someone had healed his mind and soul but not his body, he had internal bleeding from what she could tell. She might have a way she could save him, but could she give it up? She had had it since she was a child and now it was the only thing of Vorador's she had left. Would he approve of this?...Yes, he would, to save his kind, and from what Novanus had said this boy was the only way.  
The others had begun to argue, so when she came to her decision, she let out an ear-splitting whistle at which they all turned to her. From below, the sound of hooves could be heard and Seth trotted into the chamber. He walked over to Lessa and she went to the saddle bag. A second later she withdrew an object wrapped in cloth. The cloth had Vorador's and Janos' symbols on it. Lessa walked back to Izael and unfolded the object inside. It was a necklace, the chain was gold, and on the end was a piece of green stone carved in the shape of a dragon. She held it in her hand a moment, then, sighing, she put it around Izael's neck, placing the stone over his heart. Then withdrawing her blade, she cut her palm and dripped the blood on the stone, which drank it hungrily. "By this pact of Ancient blood that flows, make that which is hurt healed, and forever the promise made, has been repaid." The stone glowed red, then the red glow spread to Izael, he began to breath normally and his wounds disappeared. Then the stone turned to ash and the shape of a dragon emerged, looked at Lessa, nodded, then disappeared in a wisp of smoke.  
Lessa turned with the cloth and walked out of the room. She felt such pain; Vorador had given that to her when she had first met him and she had worn it always, until the time she had slept and it was no longer safe to be seen wearing it. Seth was following her, so she went to her room which she and Seth had made theirs. She walked to the balcony and sat on the edge, looking at the moon. Seth came up behind her and placed his head over her shoulder. She turned and clung to it tightly, hugging and stroking his long nose. There she sat in her sorrow, thinking that now she had no way of finding and resurrecting Vorador. That pendant had been the only way. She had betrayed Vorador, her teacher, her sire and, more importantly, her father. She clung to Seth and cried...

Izael opened his eyes. He felt he was in perfect shape, the feeling of weakness was gone. He felt a new kind of determination. The man he had once worshipped as the savior of humankind had nearly killed him, and, stranger still, he had been saved by a vampire. Without even thinking twice, Izael stood up. He ignored the vampires who had now turned to look at him. He thanked the strange vampire who had healed him. But he was told it had been Lessa who had saved him from certain death. So, Izael walked into Lessa's quarters. "Thank you m'lady, without you I would've surely died. I owe you much and if there is anything I can... M'lady, why are you crying?"

Seth ran towards Izael and growled at him, threatening him. Lessa turned and talked to Seth. "Leave him be, old friend, he has no way of knowing." She beckoned Seth to come and he lay down at her feet with his head on her lap, growling comfort to her. "It is nothing you would understand, Izael, it is a thing centuries old, a promise I made which I have broken and betrayed," replied Lessa, still crying. "Leave me be, mortal, meaning no disrespect. Besides, I think Gad wants to make sure you're ok, you'll never be out of his sight now." She flashed him a quick smile and then turned back to her thoughts and the moon.

The strange Kindred Rose to his feet, pulling himself up with the aid of his sacred staff. As the others had thought, he did resemble the winged ancients of the past, but only resembled. His hands and feet were clearly claws, not cloven in the shapes of hands and such as the ancients had, neither was his flesh the hue of blue. Rather, it was a dull pale white. However, there was something distinctly familiar about the vampire's visage and, as one would think and sift through their mind to seek out just who that was, the familiarity became frighteningly apparent. This stranger's gentle facade mirrored that of a young, vampiric Kain. "If I may," he said, speaking generally in the direction of where the most voices sounded, "as much as I do not like to ask, I might need a favor asked of you, anyone?"

Lessa's grief sliced through Novanus' empathic mind like a hot knife. The female vampire's actions had caused her incredible pain. Novanus felt helpless, unable to help the vampire whom in a bizarre way, he felt responsible for. Knowing that her grief would need to take its own course before she would be willing to talk, Novanus turned to the new arrival to the Temple.  
Now that he was in the presence of this vampire he could see the truth. His mental image of the Vampire had been blurred from far away and Novanus had been unable to differentiate this vampire from an Ancient. There were remarkable similarities between their physical forms, but the illusion was not perfect. Also, the subtle mental differences which marked the ancients' minds were not present. This was no ancient.  
Novanus walked over to the blind but smiling vampire. "Welcome my friend, welcome. I suppose that in a bizarre way I am your host, seeing as this has been my home for the last two thousand years. There is a sofa behind you, please take a seat, tell me your problem. If it is within my power I'll see what I can do."

Admar walked out onto the balcony. Bathed in the light of the full moon, he walked over to Lessa. "Par'n me, milady, but can I help you in anyway?" Admar sat down next to Lessa. "Come now," he said, offering her a handkerchief. "Face as pretty as yours shouldn't be covered in nasty red stains, now should it?" Lessa gave a strangled laugh. "Do you know how annoying you can be Admar? But thank you." She took the handkerchief and wiped away the tears, but the grief still threatened to overwhelm her. She doubted even Novanus had known what the stone was, but she had been glad for a moment when she had seen the relief on his and Gadorian's face. "Has Novanus sent you to check on me, loyal Admar, or is this to see if vampires truly do cry?" she asked bitterly, be she regretted sounding like that to him - he had been nothing but kind. "Oh forgive me, Admar, and Izael…I was so harsh and he only came to thank me. What would Vorador think of me? Weak and a betrayer, that is what he thinks."   
Lessa clutched at the cloth that had wrapped the necklace. She stared at it, and Vorador's sign shone in the moonlight. "Everything is undone, Admar. I am now worthless. I should just leave you all and jump off this balcony. .My purpose was to find Vorador alive. If not, then to find him using that stone and resurrect him, but now..." Lessa spread her hands in defeat. What would she do now? Whether she would go back to sleep and await Kain, or help Novanus in whatever may come, she knew not.  
"So, Admar, who was that blind vampire? And what happened to Izael and Lent anyway, did they save him?" "No, ma'lady, Lent got out himself. They just fished him out of the moat." Admar looked at Lessa confused because she had begun to laugh. "What did I say?" asked Admar with a smile. Lessa answered, "Oh god, wait till Novanus hears that!" Lessa continued to laugh and soon Admar was joining her. "How is Gad, not being shouted at by Novanus is he?..."

Gadorian sat in the chamber where, only moments ago, Izael had been dying. He ran his fingers over the table the boy had been set upon, and touched the now drying blood. It had taken a centuries-old vampire weeks to recover from a shot to the shoulder from the Reaver; the boy had been impaled upon it and was up already. Whatever icon Lessa had used upon him, it was potent indeed.  
Gadorian wanted to thank the newcomer; had he not arrived when he did, there may not have been anyone left to take back the wounded Izael. He felt unworthy to interrupt Novanus' elaborate introduction though. Novanus had been right, for the first time Gadorian could remember. And worse yet, he might end up having to admit that to him. The very thought made him cringe even more violently than when he saw the Sarafan Lord. Humble himself to Novanus? Ugh.  
He then turned his attention to Lent, who had been nodding in and out of consciousness for the past hour. No one had paid him much attention in their concern for Izael, silently facing his torment in the corner. It was just as well; the damage to his pride that would come from his "gods" seeing him in so frail a state would be a much harsher blow than any physical weapon could inflict. He would feel better with his master.   
Gadorian helped the groggy Lent to his feet, with only some mumbling in protest. He carried him back to Kain's chamber, and laid him down on a couch in the room. It was then that he first noticed an ebony chest filled with all sorts of items. Lent must have brought it in with Kain's coffin, for Gadorian recognized some of them to be the possessions of the legendary conqueror. Upon further inspection, his attention was drawn to one bauble in particular. Gadorian thought back to Lessa, and her sacrifice...  
He found her out on the balcony with Admar, and without a word he dragged her back to Kain's chamber. Had she been a human, he may have ripped off her very arm.

Still not speaking, Gadorian simply pointed at what had drawn his attention. Inside the box was a small, dark, and bloodstained ring. In another age...it had belonged to Vorador.

"Oh, a place to sit would be nice, however my senses are still fogged from my slumber, could you give me a bit of a lead?" the mysterious vampire asked, staring just past Novanus as he gave the host his clawed hand. "Of course," Novanus accepted the claw with a nod, though the gesture would go unseen, "This way."  
The two crossed the floor to the couch mentioned, the stranger finding the edge of it with his staff before taking his hand from the other kindred to feel for the cushion. Seating himself, he waited politely for his host to be seated before continuing. "I over heard a mixture of names, I have not yet begun to connect them with voices. Seeing that I am an unexpected guest, it would only be proper to introduce myself." He bowed his head as he spoke the following, placing his hand upon his chest humbly after setting down his staff against his thigh. "I am Abel, cleric of the Children of Janos."

Izael walked back to the main hall. There, he took himself a seat and joined Novanus and this new vampire, Abel. He listened to them while wondering where Gadorian was. And Lent, where was that "betrayer of humanity"? Izael would've gladly spoken to someone who could explain what had happened in the battle.

Lent was standing on the docks. He didn't remember how he got there, or what he was doing there. Still, he walked along the docks as if he knew where he was going. There was an eerie fog about, and no sign of Sarafan guards. "What are you looking for, little man?" said a mysterious voice. Lent stopped and looked around. There was no one there. He knew the voice, of course. It was the voice that haunted his dreams, and turned them into nightmares. He continued to the docks and entered a warehouse, taking note of the Sarafan symbol and the number on the door, 18:2. Lent turned behind him, the path he had taken was consumed by the fog, and all he could see was the faint light inside the warehouse.  
Stepping in, Lent could make out cries. He looked around to see cages of people stacked one on top of another. The people were so tightly packed together that there was no room to move. Lent ran to the first cage, trying to open its lock. "Why are you trying to save them?" the mysterious voice asked. "They're only going to their death." Lent frantically tried harder to break the lock, and the more he tried, the more cries he heard. "I will not let these people die by Sarafan hands." "Would you prefer these hands?" the voice said as Lent's hands turned to claws right before his eyes. "No," he said, "I'm not a vampire." "Are your hands not just as bloody? Worse, you have slain your own brother." "No," Lent said, "I only want us all to be free." "Do you believe you'll be free under vampire rule? Do you believe for a moment your vampire companions won't turn on you the first moment it becomes convenient for them?"   
The world spun around him, and Lent woke up in Kain's chamber. He didn't know how long he had been out, but he could hear the whispers of two people close by. He looked up to see Gadorian and Lessa rummaging through Kain's chest. The chest that Lent had kept for him since he was first entrusted. Lent grabbed a nearby sword.  
"I had always known Lessa for a grave digger, trying to find whatever artifacts she could that would help her raise her lost sire, but you Gadorian? I had expected more respect from you. Is anything in this cursed world still sacred?"

Izael heard Lent shout, as did the others. They all ran to the room. Izael was first to talk. "Lent, put down that sword. We are not your enemies, or are we?" With this, he looked at the vampires, then again Lent. "Oh calm down, Lent. I'm not taking anything and Gad does have more respect than you allow him, he went to rescue you, didn't he? No. Gad was thinking he was doing me a favor, and seeing as you were out cold on the floor you have no idea of the sacrifice I have just made. Grave digger well..."  
Lessa walked up to him, knocking the sword away and putting him up against the wall. "Let me add another name to your list, cousin, this should please you. You who have the mark of Vorador. I am a traitor to him for I have just used the Dragon stone to heal Izael. I have no delusions that you know what the stone was intended for but in case you do not, it was to raise Vorador. Yes, I had the power to bring Vorador back, but I have now betrayed that, so now, Lent, what will you do? Kill me as a traitor? Bah." Lessa let him go with a snarl and turned to leave.  
"Don't worry, Lent, I will get out of your things and, maybe even better, out of here. Before I go, though, here." Lessa walked over to a chalice and cut her wrists, she let her blood fill the chalice, and then she turned back to him. "There, give that to Kain. It's the only thing you want." Lessa turned to Gadorian and said, "Goodbye, Gad, I don't think I'll be returning, only the grave holds any welcome now. Tell goodbye to Novanus for me, and don't let him push you around, you don't have to admit anything." Lessa bent forward and kissed the old vampire on the forehead, then walked out ...


	19. Chapter 19

Repercussions

Izael cried after her, "LESSA? LESSA! LESSA! By the Saints, I never thought vampires could be as stubborn and foolish as humans! LESSA, listen to me! You didn't only save me, you saved the sword. You revived US. You brought back lost hope!" Izael turned to Gadorian for support, but the vampire only shook his head. "Dammit people, we can't just let her go! You gotta stop her!" But not even Izael moved. He watched Lessa mount Seth and ride out from the temple. As much he tried to tell himself otherwise, he felt guilty for all this. Suddenly Novanus entered the room, having heard the conversation. Izael walked between Novanus and Gadorian. "I understand your anger, ancient one. However, I am the one to be blamed. I insisted to go to the Keep. My foolishness nearly cost you everything. BECAUSE OF ME, AND ONLY ME, LESSA HAS LEFT. So, if you want someone to blame, confront me."

Lent threw the chalice against the wall as Lessa left. Lent didn't want her cheap offering. He was furious, Gadorian could tell, but he couldn't tell why. Lent kept a tight mind, and an even tighter lip. "What?" Gadorian asked. "Get Out!" Lent shouted. He couldn't take it anymore. He hated being pushed around by these vampires, and for a brief moment, he saw them no different from the Sarafan. "I'm not your child that you have to look after. I'm not your servant that you can just order around. You say I'm your ally, but you push me like a doll. I watch you over the daylight, provide food for you, saved Lessa from death, and you all aren't even my master. How do you thank me? By desecrating the sanctuary I've secured for your savior." Lent was full of emotions, and tried to fight back the blood tears. "All of you have lost your sight, your sense of honor. You let yourself be led around by a vampire who can't see past his own vanity. Lessa can't get past her own guilt and blames herself for Vorador's death." Lent couldn't help but smirk a little. "But Vorador died for the cause, he died with honor. Let him stay dead so that we can say one vampire died with honor." \

"And me?" Gadorian prompted. "You're just as bad for following them. It's your responsibility for Izael, not Novanus." Neither of them spoke, but there was nothing left to say. Gadorian hung around for a moment, trying to find the words to get Lent to stay, but everything had been said. Gadorian left the room, and Lent began to pack.

Lent's words lingered in Gadorian's heart. Never before had a human wounded him so. Were it anything but truth, Gadorian would have been able to shrug it off. But the ramifications ran deeper than just what had been said. Gadorian was meant, was created, was engineered by Nosgoth's greatest architects to be the bridge that would span human and vampire. And here he had failed them both. Why had he come? Why had the sword still compelled him, in the hands of the young Sarafan? He had failed it once before. His destiny was not to be any ambassador, but history's greatest prodigal.  
He envied Abel, wondering how deep the vampire's blindness ran. The malice surrounding him was an affront to Gadorian's very senses; but without sight, shutting it out might be made easier. He stared into those dead eyes and wondered what horrors they had saved Abel from. Surely one ancient and strong enough to grow wings would be long mad from the wickedness he had experienced, were he unable to escape into the solitude of his own mind. Yes, Gadorian envied him very much.   
Why had he come? What purpose was he fulfilling? He had concluded to forsake centuries of waste and hedonism, and now his goal was slipping through his uncloven hands. Fate had cast him as the unremarkable only to exalt the heroes by contrast, and was now punishing him for acting out of character.  
Gadorian walked out to the balcony and watched Lessa ride down the mountainside. He was jealous of her, as well, able to run away, for she was without obligation. Gadorian turned around and looked at Izael, his final tether to whatever meaning may have been prescribed for him, and wondered how long it would take before that rope, too, would break.

"THAT IS ENOUGH" Novanus bellowed out loud as he stormed into the room. His sapphire blue eyes flared as if on fire as he glared at Lent. Lent rose as if to argue with the vampire only to find himself telekinetically thrown against the wall as recompense. "A Vampire's blood is the most sacred thing we can give to anyone. Lessa offered you her life's blood and you, a vampire worshipper, throw it against the wall!" Novanus' rage filled the room. "How dare you," Novanus attempted to regain a degree of composure. "Lent," Novanus smiled as he said the name but there was a hint of malice in the voice. "I do wish you would stop your own personal problems interfering with what is occurring. Your judgments are clouded by your visions of the past, do not let them dominate you. Lessa was not," Novanus spat out the word, "Grave digging, she was simply looking at an object that belonged to her sire. Surely you feel some compassion for the girl. She has just sacrificed her only chance of resurrecting him in order to see that Izael did not die. Your position is as a vampire worshipper. You have sworn to protect your lord. The actions we intend to take will do exactly that. If you have not accepted that by now, you are free to leave and none of us will stop you. However, if you intend to carry out your duties and set your personal problems aside, aid us."  
Novanus turned and walked to where the broken blood chalice lay. He bent down and began picking up the blood stained pieces. "By some bizarre twist of fate we have been brought together. We owe it to ourselves to show each other respect and some semblance of civilized behavior. Otherwise our cause is useless." Novanus walked over to Lent and looked into his eyes. "Please."  
Sensing that Lent was still in no mood to talk, Novanus left the chamber and walked to his private chambers. He couldn't stand this bickering between all of the others. He needed to get out, to leave for a short time in order to distract himself. Lessa grieved; he could still sense her sorrow as she rode away. He would have to find her, but not until she had had time to deal with her issues. Novanus walked back to the main hall trying to find a lighter side of the day's events. He could find none and thus fell to remembering days before when he had traveled with Kain and stayed with Vorador.  
"A vampire cleric," said Novanus as he approached Abel. "An interesting path to take, and you are a child of Janos Audron? Interesting. I begin to understand why you resemble an ancient so much. His blood in your veins must in some way direct your vampiric evolution. Excuse me. I allow my inquisitiveness to replace my manners. I am Novanus. Once seer of the Serioli and leader of the tribe's worship of the Ancients. Now just a servant of fate, burdened with a task which I do not want, but I digress. You are seated in the High Temple of the Ancients hidden in the mountains above Meridian. This place has become a base camp of sorts." Noticing the Vampire's seeming awkwardness with his wings, Novanus shifted in his seat. It was obvious they were newly formed.  
"Can I offer you anything?" Novanus passed over one of the Blood Chalices. "It is strange that you have awoken from your metamorphosis at this time. The world has become a very perilous place, especially for one such as your self. Our race have been hunted to the brink of extinction, you will need to be careful with no eyes to see. Forgive me that our introduction has been so brief but I have to leave for a short time. If you should need anything, please don't hesitate to ask my mortal friend Admar. He will be more than happy to help." Novanus turned on his cloven foot, walked to the balcony, and sailed into the air. Novanus' silhouette passed over the night sky.

'Genius negotiator. He coerces Lent by throwing him against the wall. That'll prove he's more than a puppet to us, wont it Nova?' thought Gadorian. The temple was growing closer and closer to vacancy. Gadorian walked back inside. He passed Lent, and shot him a quick glance, but could not bear to see him for long. It was a truly humbling thing for him to feel shame towards a human, and at that, a vampire worshipper, though it seemed that Lent may have been considering a conversion.


	20. Chapter 20

New Purpose

Lessa rode hard. She was truly sorry for what she had done to Lent but the anger in her was too great, that he actually thought she would steal from Kain that which was given to him by Vorador…Gadorian had been sweet to try and stop the pain she was feeling with that trinket, but it was Kain's and she was Loyal to him. Lessa worried for Gadorian as she rode, he seemed almost as lost as she, would he know that she considered that he was not worthless, and that he had not failed in his task? 'W e are not gods as the cattle see us, we are just as capable of making mistakes as them, just look at Kain who trusted Sebastian, and look what that got him. No, we are not gods,' she thought, and she hoped Gadorian would realize his worth one day.   
Lessa headed to her home, well, her old home of Vorador's mansion. Maybe she would find were she belonged when she put her past to rest. Vorador was gone, but in a way he was not. She began to realize what Lent had meant - Vorador lived on in her, so he was never truly gone. She found she was at the trail of Ignis Fatuus and soon at the mansion. It was a fallen in ruin now, full of mold and ghosts. She dismounted and made her way inside. She continued until she came to the main chamber, Vorador's room. She could still see flashes of the past, Novanus arguing with Vorador, and at the oak table Vorador and Kain talking, and Vorador giving Kain the ring. She went through the doors to Vorador's bedroom and sat remembering her past, memories of calling Vorador "father" and him hugging a small girl of five as a mortal father would, with love.  
"Oh father, I need your guidance, now more than ever. But why would you answer? I have betrayed you," Lessa said sadly while staring at the moon. "You have not betrayed me, child, for I live," the voice of Vorador came into her mind. Could this be? He was alive. "Father?...But how can this be, Novanus said you were dead." "Yes, my child, I was, but I have come back, but will not go into details now - there is no time. You have met my servant Lent, have you not?" "Yes, father, I have," replied Lessa, full of joy. Vorador continued, "Then you know what he protects -Kain. You must make sure Lent brings Kain to us, my daughter. He will be safe with us. Then you and Lent must stay with Gadorian and Novanus." "But father, I want to be by your side." "You will, child, but you are the only one I trust to do this, none of my followers can leave Meridian, but you are already outside. Bring Kain by sea. I will have one of my followers named Umah collect Kain from you there, that is the only way to get Kain into Meridian. Whisper me when you get near so I can send Umah. Go, child, quickly and know my love goes with you." Lessa ran for Seth and set off and a fast pace. She had a purpose and, more importantly, Vorador was alive.

Novanus flew as high in the air as he dared, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face. He loop-de-looped and somersaulted, twisted and turned until any mortal observer would have become dizzy. This was what he had missed, fun. The weight of his responsibilities had begun to turn Novanus into the thing he hated most. He had become so involved, so single minded that his eyes had been blinkered to anything outside of his mission. On the horizon, Meridian became apparent. Novanus flew towards it, relishing the mayhem to the Sarafan that he might perpetrate.

It was almost dawn by the time Lent reached Meridian. He could have stayed and served, but Novanus' actions convinced him otherwise. He hated that arrogant prick of a vampire. "What business is it of him if I leave? He is not my master. Kain was not entrusted to him." None of them really noticed that he left, except for Gadorian. "Why do you look at me with those painful eyes, Gadorian?" Lent said to himself while recollecting the last glance Gadorian gave. "Do you think me a traitor? You should know better by now." He had no intention of becoming a traitor, but with so much mistrust, he felt Kain would be safer somewhere else. Lent continued to ride and thought of Lessa.  
"Here is your blood offering," she said to him. "I know that's what you wanted."  
"Poor Lessa," Lent spoke to himself. "All I ever wanted was to be close to you. You are my blood, we are kin."  
Lent stopped at a shop and dismounted the wagon. Getting out of Meridian with Kain would be no easy task, better to keep him in the city. Approaching the curious shop, Lent felt weak. If Novanus spoke the truth, and the vampire resistance was finished, there would be no answer. Lent knocked on the door, and there was no reply. He had nowhere else to go, and knocked again. "We're closed," a voice from inside said. This only encourage Lent, who started to beat on the door. The door swung open and a human merchant looked at him. "You're not Sarafan." "They say the plague of Coorhagen killed all but one," Lent said. The merchant looked at him as if he couldn't believe what he had heard. "Well then, let me give you a hand!"

The two lifted the coffin from the wagon and into the shop where a female vampire greeted them. "You're late, Loki." "Got side-tracked. This isn't some package you can just throw a crate around." "We where supposed to meet at the docks, what happened?" "Ward Gates, so I went around the sea. Good thing too, I heard that ship sank into the ocean." "It did," the female vampire said, "and we had lost hope. But now your task is complete. You may go on your way." "Not so fast," Lent surprisingly said while noting her boots. "I will not hand this package over to a vampire who has marks of Sarafan on her." "You pathetic human!" "Umah!" a somewhat familiar voice said below, "Let him come."  
Lent was led downstairs. There must have been a dozen vampires around him as Lent carried the wooden coffin in. They looked at him with suspicious and almost hungry eyes. And there, standing before him, was Vorador. Lent dropped the coffin and fell to his knees. "You know me, my son?" asked Vorador. "Yes, father, I know you." "You have done well, son. You have kept the honor of your family name." Lent took a deep breath and felt relieved of the insults that were given to him earlier. "Thank you, father."   
"And yet, you still have another task. You must carry on and pass what you know to another. Once you've accomplished this, you may return to serve." Lent said, "I had a wife and child once. They were taken from me by the Sarafan." Vorador knowingly replied, "You have suffered much, my son. Come here, let me bless you."  
Vorador handed Lent a golden cup. Lent knew what this meant - he was to be blessed by the blood of his ancestor. Lent filled the cup with water from his canteen and drank from it. He then touched the cup to his forehead; the water inside churned and turned to blood. "May the source of my life nourish yours, father." Vorador drank from the cup, blessed it, and the blood inside turned dark. It was now the blood of a vampire. "And may the source of my life aid you in yours," Vorador said while handing the cup back. Lent drank the blood from the cup, and was thus blessed. "Rise, my son, for you are no longer a Loki Warrior, but a Warrior Priest. The blessed spells of the Loki are now yours to invoke." Lent stood up. "Go forth and multiply, Lent. Let neither Vampire nor Sarafan stand in your way. You know where to find your fate. And remember, no one must know I'm alive," Vorador said to him, and Lent left with great haste. He knew what he had to do.

Novanus sat huddled atop the peak of the mountain upon which the temple was situated. His reverie had faded quickly. He seemed to find no joy in the killing of ignorant Sarafan, nor in slaughtering the inhabitants of Nosgoth. He felt empty, as if he had lost part of himself. The feeling had been growing in him for days as he had become more and more obsessed with defeating the Wraithen. But now there was something else, an insatiable urge to fill the gap which he felt was appearing in his soul. He had never felt like this before, and it troubled him deeply. The depression weighed heavily on Novanus, and it was only through a conscious effort that he left the summit of the mountain and entered the temple, just as dawn was breaking.

_"We shall make you our conduit. We shall make you, our voice." _Novanus awoke from his slumber with a start, his mind haunted by the words which he had heard in his dreams.

Abel grew tired of sitting with no company. If he found Novanus he would answer the questions he had asked later, but for now he wished to mingle with his new companions. He grasped the white ash staff, standing to wander in the direction of open air, the sounds of whipping winds luring him toward the balcony. However, his path was deterred by the sound of someone passing him. For a brief moment they connected, shoulder just slipping past shoulder with the barest touch. Abel turned, reaching out to stop the passing man, but in his absence of sight held a clawful of air. "Gadorian, yes?" he asked, knowing by the sounds of steps that the one who passed him was within earshot for his normal voice, the Romanian nativity playing on the words as it had before; the quietness of the hall letting the accent follow through without the unneeded ambiance. "I have a question, about the vampire I overheard being mentioned before... about Kain."

Gadorian turned to face Abel, and for the first time took in the true majesty of this newcomer. Something about him seemed eerily familiar, both in his face and voice. His dialect was clearly from some Nosgothian town, long since lost...but which one?  
"Ask away. The Loki, Lent, would know the most about him, for Kain is the master which he serves. I will, however, do my best to sate your curiosity." Abel placed both claws upon the staff, drumming the three hardened fingers against each other, while he responded, "Well, I don't quite feel comfortable about him as of yet, with what happened before. I seemed to have gotten ahead of myself, though. This place, where are we exactly? It seems vaguely familiar to me." "Ha, I can't believe Novanus spared you the grand tour. He would have loved to show you this whole place, though I'm sure by the end of it he would have you convinced that he built it all single-handedly. This place was built back before the war between the ancients and hylden, and served many purposes. As you can see, it easily serves as a place of housing, a temple, and in times of crisis, a fortress. Whatever its name is, if it has one, I don't personally know it. It's come to serve as our sanctuary, and headquarters, really. You'll probably get to know it rather intimately in no time at all." "A sanctuary, and so close to chaos," Abel thought aloud, looking just past Gadorian as he thought. "Reminds me of the cathedral back home in Coorhagen, the feel of it. Mmm, though I doubt that it still stands."  
Abel paused, turning his head slightly to look him in the eyes again. There was an eerie yellow gold solid over what would have been the most deep and beautiful eyes. "You mentioned the boy, the Loki, was a servant of Kain? Would that mean…he is near?" Abel asked with great interest, oddly great for a cleric, despite his race. Why would a cleric, the givers and preservers of life (although ironically this one was undead), wish to see a killer?

Izael tried to sleep, but he simply could find no rest. Lessa troubled him too much. Because of his stupidity, Lessa had lost something very valuable to her. "Why didn't they just let me die?" Izael asked in his mind, even though he knew the answer, knew it too well. "Dammit, this is all my fault. I gotta find her. Find her and make her change her mind." He knew where Lessa probably was. Izael had heard many strange things regarding that old mansion in the woods. Silently, he stood up from his dusty bed and walked to his armor. It took him two hours to wear it, but finally he was ready. Izael knew Gadorian would blame himself because of this, and felt sorry for the vampire. However, he couldn't simply leave Lessa. He opened the door quietly. He knew how to get to the stables to get a horse. With that, Izael sprinted off from the temple in his full plate, ensuring everyone noticed him leaving, whether he wanted it or not. But before anyone could react, Izael was gone in a bright flash. He was suddenly near the old mansion, which looked quite scary in moonlight.  
"It shouldn't have happened that fast. Now I'm here even before Lessa is." He decided to walk around a bit, sure that Lessa would arrive in few hours. Suddenly a hand came over his mouth, preventing him from shouting. Then Izael was dragged into the shadows. A soft voice spoke into his ear, "Not someone I'd expected. Well, your being here shows that my target is to arrive. Riding on a magical beast through the woods. How careless. Mortals might not realize anything, but it is so easy for a vampire of my age to see through the masquerade. You are probably the Loki who ran away from us before, are you not? Hmmh, now I will be greatly rewarded." And as Izael watched, Lessa arrived. She went through the rooms, looking sad. She was so in her memories that she didn't notice them as she passed near. Suddenly she started talking to herself about her father and such things. Then she fell silent, and concentrated hard. Suddenly she ran off, looking very excited. The vampire who held Izael said only, "Oh, looks like she came here to mourn but was whispered by a vampire. From the look on her face I'd say someone dear to her. Good, good...she will lead us to its hiding place." Izael tried to shout and struggled to get free. He had to warn Lessa!

Lessa was riding past Meridian when Vorador whispered her again. "No need to worry, child, the Loki has made it safely to us." Lessa sighed with relief, "That is welcome news, father, I knew I had missed him, and I saw a ship sink over the water, I thought all was lost. Is he well?" "Yes. Are you showing concern, my daughter? The years seemed to have mellowed you," Vorador said with a laugh. Lessa smiled, she had missed that laugh. "What would you have me do now, father?" "You must return to the temple, the Sarafan know where the others are and are going to strike, you must warn them." "As you wish, father, I shall go...Oh and father, tell Lent that I am sorry for how I treated him before, and I love you father." Vorador laughed and whispered back, "I will, child, and my love goes with you, now fly."  
Lessa turned Seth north and as she did, she could see a large contingent of the Sarafan heading north too, there wasn't much time. "Run Seth, faster than you ever have." Seth growled in compliance and started to run. Lessa only hoped she was in time to give them enough warning...  
She got a few miles down the road when she heard something behind her, a rustle. She stopped Seth. She had a feeling someone was near...a vampire and a human. Sarafan?...no this human seemed familiar, but the Vampire did not... "Come out. I'm not so young that I can't tell you are skulking in the shadows..." No reply or movement came. "Very well, you have just proved you're a Sarafan traitor, as only the cowards that went to his side would hide like the weaklings they are..." Lessa was rewarded by this with a growl. She smiled as the vampire walked out and threw a bound and gagged person to the ground. 'Izael?' she thought. 'Oh great, Gad is probably going nuts about now and Novanus is shouting at him.' Lessa challenged the vampire, "Well, well...so, is there something you wanted or do you like hiding?"

This was exactly the moment Izael had been waiting for. A vampire was too mighty for him to defeat alone, but together with Lessa they could succeed. However, the traitor needed to be silenced quickly, for they had to make it to warn others. Izael kneeled, as if bowing to the traitor. With that, he touched the sword the vampire had taken from him with his head. He concentrated for a while, and the sword started to glow with white light that burned away the ropes the vampire had used to tie Izael up. The vampire drew the Sword of the Serioli in amazement, only to find the sword burn him. Izael smiled as he heard the vampire scream. With that, Izael called the Sword and it flew to him. Izael swung it in the air lovingly for a while.  
"Now, you shall find me much more than a vampire worshipper. A former Sarafan vampire worshipper!" The traitor hissed and showed its fangs at Izael, then attacked. Izael parried easily the first few strikes. However, the vampire was much better and managed to hit Izael in the head. Izael flew a few meters back, but with the sword's help, landed on his feet, his head ringing. "Now, Lessa!" Izael hoped this would buy him enough time to heal, as he started to mutter the words his father had taught...

Lessa rushed forward, pulling forth her blade as she did so. The Vampire was swinging at Izael. Lessa stopped the blade with hers just in time. Grinning, she said, "Ah ah ahh! Temper, temper." The Vampire snarled and swung the blade at her. She parried and swung back, so the dance began. They were both as good as each other and seemed about the same age, but Lessa didn't seem to be worried. The vampire swung at Lessa again, but this time she ducked and swung back the flame sword one-handed, slicing the Vampire across the leg. The Vampire hissed and quickly stepped out of range, snarling. "Not as easy as you thought, hmm? You honestly think a vampire trained by the coward your lord is, could match one taught by Vorador himself?" Lessa laughed. "But enough of this distraction. Izael, would you like to join me in this and test your skills?"

Novanus walked out of his chamber feeling absolutely awful. He mind felt as if it had been violated and beaten. He sat down in a chez-long and cupped his head in his hands. "Are you alright, my lord? I have to say you're looking a little worse for wear."  
"I'm fine Admar," replied Novanus, "I just have a little bit of a head ache. It's nothing."  
"If you say so sir." Novanus looked up at Admar. "Oh for god sake, Admar. Call me by my first name. I do so hate all of nonsense." "So be it, Novanus. If you're interested, Gadorian and that Abel fellow are in the adjacent chamber, if you wish to be with them."  
Novanus sighed, "Thank you, old friend, I believe I will." Novanus rose from the chair and walked over to Abel and Gadorian.

Izael felt all the pain melt away as healing magic flowed through him, curing his wounds. His head stopped banging. The two small dots on his neck that indicated the vampire had used him to gain more strength were gone. Cuts on his face, that were made only to amuse his captor, closed. Izael opened his eyes when he heard Lessa yell his name. He saw her locked in fierce combat with the traitor. "Lessa, this traitor has followed you all the way! He knows where the others are! We cannot waste time in pointless fight, we MUST warn them!" Izael knew he could teleport back to the temple with his sword, but he didn't know how, and that irritated him much. He had to think about something else. Of course, the whisper! He had to learn more about the advantages vampires had. Izael attacked the traitor, swinging his blade furiously. The vampire, caught off guard, took many nasty cuts on its back before it was able to turn to face Izael. Izael looked at the vampire, his heart full of rage, and yelled, "Lessa, whisper the others! Now!" With that, Izael struck the vampire with all his force, The Sword of the Serioli glowing brightly. The vampire yelled as it was engulfed in white hot flames. The Sword multiplied Izael's strength and his next hit sent the vampire flying through the air. Izael knew that even though he had struck first, he couldn't stand against the vampire on his own for long, and he prayed Lessa could manage to contact the others.

"Novanus. NOVANUS!" Lessa screamed with her mind. She felt she had his attention. "There isn't much time, the Sarafan know where you are. They know about the temple. You must run. There's a whole contingent of them on their way. I have to go. Have to stop Izael getting himself killed." Lessa cut off and joined the fray. This was going to be hard; she would have to fight this vampire while watching out for Novanus. Then she had an idea - there was a river nearby, if they could just get there...She whispered to Izael, "Izael, run to Seth and ride to the river. I'll distract him and come after you. I have a plan." She saw Izael nod and mount Seth.   
"And where do you think you're going?" the Vampire lunged at Izael but met Lessa instead. They clashed hard and came up rolling. She could see Izael was almost at the river. She used the flame sword to push the vampire back, then she willed the blade to flash bright. Blinded, the Vampire snarled and jumped back. Lessa ran, hoping her plan would work.

Orugarde took a deep breath and emerged from the silence of his quieted mind. Eyes open, he turned towards Kour only to see his master already up, eyes fixated on the near emberless coals. "My Lord, we must warn the Priestess," he said. Kour replied, "The Priestess already knows, Orugarde. And the Order is safe, for now. But as with all things, the time we've been given is temporary and the Pillars impermanent. The spell will fade and this world will succumb to the other. It is just a matter of time."


	21. Chapter 21

A Possible Wraithen Ally

Jessie was a wraith, although she wanted nothing to do with the Nerayan. She could assume any form she wanted, but more powerful forms required more energy to maintain, so she often compromised strength to conserve energy. Her current appearance was of a young human dressed in full black armor with a dark green coat that shielded against magical attacks. She had a broad sword that was very straight and sharp; its only adornment was a green gem set into the hilt, matching her green-gold eyes.

Jessie walked along the riverbank, lost in a world of her own, until screams and the sound of steel on steel snapped her to attention. Her mission would have to wait. She sensed the Sword of the Serioli up ahead and felt compelled to aid its bearer.  
She came upon the battle and paused, watching it for a moment before she entered. The bearer of the Sword was being attacked by a vampire that she remembered from somewhere, perhaps a past "life." There was another vampire aiding the bearer, one who seemed to be called Lessa. This "Lessa" was apparently attempting to drown the other vampire. As the human, Izael, rode toward the river on the great demon horse, and Lessa blinded the enemy vampire with Kain's old sword, Jessie saw an opportunity to enter the battle.  
She unsheathed her sword and moved swiftly toward the enemy. He shook his head, groaning, and recovered his lost sight in time to see her advance. He jumped, dodging the blow she had aimed for his head, but she was faster than he had anticipated. She missed his head, but took a chunk out of the armor on his arm. She swiveled about to face him and they began to cross swords. This unknown vampire was rather good. He matched Jessie blow for blow, blocking all of her attacks, but she was able to block all of his as well.  
Jessie decided that she had assessed his skill long enough. She began to move very quickly, granted inhuman speed at the cost of some energy, and she took her adversary by surprise. He swung at her, but she jumped to the side and he missed by a long shot. She lunged at him while he was recovering and swung her sword at him. Her sword suddenly glowed with a green Wraithen light, severing his sword-arm. He screamed in shock and pain, unsure of what to do.  
He seemed about to run away, but found that he could not. He was frozen in place, quivering, as Jessie sheathed her sword. She stood looking him over, almost smiling, and finally said, "It's a Wraithen blade," in answer to Lessa's unspoken question. Lessa and Izael had been watching her display mutely, and now they stood there trying to figure out if this new person was a possible ally or a dangerous enemy.  
Izael broke the silence, "Wraithen? Like the Nerayan?" Jessie answered forcefully, "No, not like the Nerayan. I am a wraith, but I am not that. I am Jessie and my blade is as ancient as I am. It has the power to drain energy. Not blood, or souls, but pure energy that goes directly to me and allows me to maintain my material form. I am an ally, believe me. The last thing I want is for the Nerayan to break through and claim this world. I do not wish to be a part of them. How is Kain? I was away on a search for an ancient artifact when he challenged the Sarafan Lord. I sensed him fall in combat, and I regret very much that I couldn't save him. However, I know he still lives. Are you protecting him?"   
Lessa stood there, taking measure of this mysterious stranger, this Jessie, and she weighed the risks of divulging Kain's location. She would have to ask Vorador if he knew of this woman, whether or not she was to be trusted, and how to proceed.

Novanus' mind felt like it had been struck by a battle axe when Lessa whispered to him. His headache had not subsided and, if anything, seemed to be getting worse. He jumped out of his chair and called out to the others. "Quickly, my friends, the Sarafan are headed this way. Gather what you need to take with you. We must leave." "But my Lord, you'll be abandoning the temple!" "I know, Admar, but we cannot help that now. Besides, once we are outside of it the temple will take its own measures to keep itself from being found. There is powerful magic cast upon it." Novanus grabbed a leather sack from nearby and began thrusting objects into it. He took a blood chalice and then went to his room and gathered objects that he might need in the upcoming future.  
_"You will be our voice."_ Novanus stood bolt upright…. No, he'd imagined it, just a memory of his dream from the night before. Nothing to worry about. Novanus walked back to the main hall to find the rest of the party assembled and ready to leave.

Izael addressed his new acquaintance, "And how do we know you are not lying, Jessie? We have just faced a traitorous vampire, and at least I am not in the mood to believe anyone to be my friend just if she says so. But enough of this, our comrades are in danger and we must hurry. However, there are not mounts for all of us. Thus I suggest you two ride ahead to the temple. I will use other means of transport. After all, I am human." Seeing Lessa's gaze, Izael continued, "Unless either of you has a better idea. You can ride to the temple to help others, then whisper me our group's new hiding location. I will arrive there as quickly as I can. So, what do you say?"

Lent sat at the bar waiting. This was the part that bothered him the most. Waiting. He reflected how whenever he was caught up in the moment all he wanted was downtime. But downtime was just the period between chapters, and he was just waiting for the next moment. Lent leaned back in the booth and looked at the flickering candle; sounds of ships echoed from outside.  
A sailor walked in and looked around the room at each individual person. His eyes stopped on Lent and then he sat in front of him. "This meeting never happened," Lent said. The sailor reassured, "As with all my clients. You come very highly recommended with getting sensitive items past the Sarafan. Just tell me, if you do pull this off, what then? Are you going to just hand them over to your masters?" "No, they don't know about this." "So what are you doing risking your life?" the sailor asked. "Who else will?" "I see your point. I guess there is honor amongst your kind," the sailor paused, then continued, "The ship leaves Monday midnight. Good luck, and may you go with god." He then stood up and walked out.  
Lent lit his weed pipe and pondered. He had three days to formulate a plan. He needed to first break into the southern docks, make his way past the Sarafan patrols, steal the cargo and somehow get them out of the docks at the same time. He would not be able to fight back the Sarafan once he acquired the target. Lent emptied the ashes from his pipe with his boot and then left into the misty night.

Jessie stood pensive for a short while, then said, "Calm down, Izael. There is no need to rush ahead blindly just yet. I am beginning to sense something I haven't felt in ages—the temple is awakening from its long slumber. The temple will defend itself. Your friends must be preparing to leave. They will be gone by the time we get there. The only purpose going to the temple now could serve would be to reveal its location to the Sarafan sure to see us. We must ask your friends where they are going and meet them there." Jessie turned to Lessa and said, "Go on. Whisper to your friend. Whisper to Novanus and ask him where he is going."  
Lessa jumped at the mention of Novanus' name. Had this stranger been in her thoughts without her knowledge? She asked, somewhat accusingly, "How do you know my friend is Novanus?" "Ah. So it is Novanus," replied Jessie. "I didn't know, not really, but who else could have temporarily purified the pillars? Kain is in a deep slumber. Janos is, um, I know he's alive but I can't pinpoint his location. Perhaps Abel could have accomplished it, but he was evolving the last time I sensed him. I know I didn't do it because I was too busy running around trying to find a cure for the guillotine to do it myself. Novanus is the only one left that I know of. Before you accuse me of anything further, I know about these people because in years past, they were my friends. Now go on, whisper to him and ask where he is taking everyone."  
Jessie was a little bit concerned. She wanted these two new friends of hers to trust her, but she understood their hesitation. In a time like this, they shouldn't trust anyone they had only just met. Still, she had spoken the truth earlier (as always) -- the last thing she wanted was for the Nerayan to claim all of the minds in this realm. She did not want to join them. She would do almost anything to avoid that fate and if it meant helping some people that she liked anyway, so much the better.  
The Nerayan were growing stronger. Already Jessie could feel their presence, the sense of dread, the cold tendrils in the back of her mind that meant they were here. They did not possess a physical manifestation yet, surely she would know of it. They were sensing, searching, feeling for a body to corrupt. She hoped they wouldn't find one. Everything depended on it, and time was of the essence.

"How do you know all this? Who are you?" Izael could feel power emanating from their new companion. He still didn't trust this Jessie, far from it, but he understood that they might already be damned if that...thing would so want. "I have already told you who I am. I have walked Nosgoth longer than your forefather has been on his grave. If you do not trust me, ask Novanus. He will surely recognize my name," Jessie replied, her face cold and emotionless. "Very well... I believe you. Where do you suggest we'll stay the night? Even though you are immortal and tireless, I am not. I am wounded and weak, and unless you are a master healer, I fear I cannot go on for long. Unless I can sleep while riding Seth, of course." For the first time, Izael felt the drawbacks of being human weigh on him. He was slowing others down. Jessie looked Izael over and realized the extent of his fatigue. "Very well," she conceded. "It would not do to have the only one who can truly defeat the Nerayan die of exhaustion. Follow me."  
Jessie walked further along the river bank until she came to a shallow section. She began to walk across the riverbank, not at all deterred by the weak flow of water that reached up to her knee. Izael cautiously followed, but Lessa hung back. She waited until the other two were across, then she whistled for Seth. Seth came to her very quickly, allowed her to climb onto his back, and then jumped across the entire width of the river without even having to take a running start. "Very impressive," commented Jessie. Without another word, she left the riverbank and entered the forest.  
After a very short time walking, the group came upon a clearing. With a muttered word from Jessie, a small house shimmered into view in the center of the clearing. "I have these little waypoints all over Nosgoth," Jessie explained. "In fact, I was heading for this one when I came across your battle. Now come inside. Once we have entered, the house will disappear from view again and the Sarafan will not be able to find us."  
Izael and Lessa looked at one another. Lessa whispered to Izael, hoping he would be able to hear her, asking if he thought they should enter. Just then, a dull thudding became audible. It was the marching of a band a Sarafan heading in their direction. Without further thought, all three, and Seth, ran into the house. There was a strange sound as the hut shimmered and faded from visibility to the outside world. Inside, however, it seemed like a normal house. Izael ran over to the window and saw about fifteen of his former brethren coming their way. Izael tensed, expecting at any moment for one of them to see him and charge, but that moment never came.  
The Sarafan marched straight at the house. Most of them missed it on their own, but a few walked right into it. Instead of letting them know they had hit something, the barrier around the house gently pulled them around the house and set them on their original path without them even realizing anything had happened. Jessie smiled to herself. After all of those years, the magic was still potent. She watched the others silently, curious about what would happen next. There was a decent bed in a room off to the side, if Izael trusted her enough to let his guard down and rest. She also had a blood chalice Lessa could use, a relic from a past "life". The Sarafan reentered the forest on the other side of the clearing and continued their march to the temple. Hopefully, Novanus had led the others safely away by now.

As the small party sped from the temple, it began to shimmer, its outline becoming indistinct against the rocky landscape that surrounded it. After about a minute the temple had disappeared from view, now appearing as if it were part of the rock-face. 'So much has been lost, so much knowledge forgotten,' Novanus thought to himself. His headache had subsided now, but its after-effects had left him feeling like a new born chick. He looked back at the rest of the party. Admar lay slumped over the saddle of his horse, 'Archer'. Abel was being gently led by Gadorian; his face was serene and calm. 'Unnervingly calm,' thought Novanus. Gadorian seemed troubled, but not by the impending assault on the Temple by the Sarafan. Something else troubled his old nemesis. Lessa and Izael were out there somewhere. Novanus only hoped that the pair was unhurt.


	22. Chapter 22

Brief Respite

Cloaked in an ancient barrier, the house was secure. Inside, the inhabitants each went about their own business. Izael went into the other room to sit down "just for a moment" and promptly passed out. Lessa paced restlessly outside of his door, half guarding him and half thinking about what to do next. Seth settled down near Lessa, seeming to be asleep, but in truth he was keeping vigil over his friends. Jessie moved swiftly about the house, from place to place, gathering objects and putting things in order. It had been a long time since she had been here last.  
Jessie decided that now was the time to retrieve something very special, something she had hidden away in her own private sanctuary. She let the others rest and went off into a separate room of the small house, locking the door behind her. This room was very dark, windowless and without a source of light. Jessie stepped forward and a circle on the floor lit up before her. From its light, she could see the old warp gate, still functional. She shifted through the pictures, finally stopping on the correct symbol, her symbol, and passed through to the other side.  
She emerged in an enclosed cavern deep in the heart of a mountain. There were only two ways to access this place – through one of the warp gates hidden away in her secret waypoints or by teleportation. Nowadays, she relied more heavily on the warp gates because teleportation took too much energy to use on a regular basis. The cavern was lit by small orbs of colored light that floated near the ceiling, perhaps arranged into the patterns of stars no one in Nosgoth had ever seen, but the place was rather dim. It had several other rooms branching off from it, but they were closed off now. Various plants grew along the walls, carefully surrounding paintings and shelves of artifacts from everywhere Jessie had ever been.  
Jessie walked over to a shelf designated for Amazonia, another dimension she had accessed not too long ago, and picked up a stone as large as her fist. It was a deep ruby red in color with gold veins interlaced throughout it. She might be needing this. She put it into a pocket in her coat, gave one last look around, and reluctantly headed back to the warp gate.  
Jessie emerged in the darkened room of the small house completely wrapped up in her own thoughts. She wanted to visit some of the other dimensions once more, but for the time being she was trapped here. Oh, well. There were worse places to be trapped, but she missed having the ability to leave. She unlocked the door, but stopped before opening it. Something was wrong. She could sense another presence in the house, vaguely familiar but strangely different. In an instant, Jessie recognized what it was and opened the door without a second thought.  
Lessa stood against the wall, deep in conversation with herself. Jessie could sense the presence of the person Lessa was whispering to. It was Vorador. Jessie was capable of listening in on the conversation, but she intentionally blocked it out. She didn't want to intrude. Instead, Jessie thought to herself, "So, he does remember how to get around my barriers. I wonder what else he remembers…"

The group continued down the mountainside towards the lights below them. Most of Meridian sat on the opposite end of the mountain, though a few small hovels stretched this far around. "I wonder if Kain is safe," Gadorian uttered, his voice devoid of emotion. Had anyone else said it, Novanus may have let it slide, but from Gadorian he viewed it as a direct attack. "P'haw! I'm sure that dog Lent is using him for something."  
Abel's words came into the night like a soft breeze. "If I know Kain, he'll be just fine." "Oh really?" Gadorian asked. The latest comment from the usually quiet Abel peaked Gadorian's curiosity quite a bit. The dark angel had seemed all too interested in Kain before, though none of his questions ever had a chance to be answered.  
Novanus looked up at the sky. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, but the darkness was indeed fading. "We'll need a place to stay," he said as he shot a glance at Abel. He continued, "There's no way we could stay in daylight. I could cast an illusion over his wings, but I don't know how long it would hold."  
Gadorian was touched by Novanus' display of modesty, as much as he was capable. For the past few days he had been unable to shake an overwhelming feeling of apathy. He grieved for his old vivacious self, but grieved more for the days he had wasted as such. It took a little longer for it occur to Gadorian that perhaps Novanus' humility was due to some loss; on further thought it became more apparent - Novanus hadn't telekinetically pulverized any small animals (or unfortunate humans) or made any illusions of raining blood at least since they left the temple. Something was certainly amiss.  
Finally they reached the border of town. "You two wait here, I'll figure something out." Gadorian felt a little bad, looking at the duo - blind leading the blind - but before long he had shrugged it off and arrived in town. His attention was soon drawn to the grandest inn this side of Meridian, which, considering its surroundings, wasn't saying all that much. Nevertheless, he entered its doors.  
Drooling on the desk was the clerk. Gadorian walked silently up towards the man. He picked up a cloak left there by some busy traveler, rolled it into a makeshift pillow, and then slipped it under the clerk's head. Still not satisfied, Gadorian hummed out a few measures of a traditional human lullaby. Upon seeing the clerk reach a complete peaceful state of slumber, Gadorian was ready to rent his room. He abruptly and furiously began ringing the bell. The clerk awoke in an irate, yet still somnolent, stupor, knocking over a few chairs before gaining his senses. The shenanigan caused the first smile Gadorian had shown in days.  
"Wha? Werr...What do you want?" "Oh, excuse me, sir, I'm sorry about the hour—you see, my friends and I are dreadfully tired from traveling all night, and need a place to rest our bones. We would be ever so grateful if you would spare us some rooms?" "Friends? I don't see any..." the clerk let out a large yawn. "So it's settled? Wonderful!" Gadorian set a pouch of coins on the desk and managed to coax the clerk into passing him some keys before he again drifted off.  
A halo of light was gathering in the distance, preparing the way for the soon to rise sun. "Alright guys, it's clear." Gadorian tossed Abel and Novanus their keys, but Novanus nearly dropped his in a clumsy fumble. He was worse off than he appeared. Upon entering, Abel shot a knowing glance towards the sleeping clerk and stifled a chuckle. The blind vampire's hearing was acute indeed. When Gadorian reached his room, tiny shafts of sunlight were already beginning to dance on the floor. He worried about Izael - through their bond he could sense that he was alright, but Gadorian knew it was his duty to protect the boy. He hoped Lessa would be able to take care of him till the group reformed.

Jessie's reverie was suddenly broken by an intrusive presence in her own mind. At first she tried to block it, but then she realized the source. It wasn't a coherent message, more along the lines of transmitted emotions—loneliness and hunger. In his sleep, Kain was calling out to her, although he probably wasn't aware of it. Jessie's first instinct was to go to him immediately and help, but she remained still. Much as it pained her to leave Kain alone in that state, the Temple would keep him safe for now. She would do more harm than good by breaking the Temple's illusions to enter, and teleporting through the barrier would require enough energy to make her lose her material form shortly thereafter. So she just stood there, leaning against the doorway, sensing Kain's pain and knowing that she couldn't do anything without hurting him further. Something was slightly suspicious about this sensation, but Jessie couldn't put her finger on what was wrong.

Abel stayed close behind the walking party, tracing his palm over the key and feeling for the engraved number. As he rolled the key in his hand he kept the other hand upon the opposite wall and tucked the staff under his arm, trying to match the feeling of the number to the plates nailed to the doors. "Oh," he muttered, distraught. "Kain always helped me with numbers." Whether he said it loud enough for someone to hear or not was none of his concern at the moment. Abel was determined to find his room by himself. But he had been heard; Gadorian looked back over his shoulder to the blind one behind him with a raised eyebrow. He wasn't about to ask him to repeat himself, he had heard the statement, but was he going to ask him what he meant by it?

Lessa turned to Jessie. "I know you now, though you looked different then. You would have seen me, a child of seven, walking around Vorador's mansion - his daughter," Lessa said bowing. She did indeed remember her though not the name. It had been so long ago, it was Vorador that reminded her. "I can see by your look, you have questions. I will tell you all I can." Lessa sat down at the table and waited for Jessie's questions. Seth kept his eye on her but Lessa nodded and he finally went to sleep. She could tell that Izael was in a deep sleep and so there would be time to talk.

Jessie sat down across from Lessa, considering which question to ask first. Before she could even say a word, the wash of Kain's emotions was over her again. It still seemed to be coming from the Temple, but slowly it dawned on Jessie that that was impossible. The barrier around the Temple would not permit the signal to leave. Kain's whisper must be coming from somewhere else...At that thought, Kain's whisper stopped and Vorador's laughter filled her mind. Jessie came very close to blushing. So Vorador still remembered just what emotional buttons to push to get her wound up and worried for no reason. She and Vorador were good friends, but from the beginning they had a playful sort of rivalry going on. Never mind. She would have to get him back later. She refocused her attention on Lessa.   
"I do seem to remember you, although that was a lifetime ago," began Jessie. "How is Vorador, by the way?" she said with a small bit of an edge to her voice. "Is he taking good care of Kain?" "How did you know he had Kain with him?" asked Lessa. Jessie answered slowly, "He played a trick on me, dredging up my memories of Kain and convincing me Kain was in the Temple. Luckily, I realized it before I tried to find Kain. I never should have told Vorador how to contact me like that... We are good friends, but we always seem to end up trying to outdo each other." Lessa replied, "Well, stop it, we have work to do." "But he started it!" Jessie exclaimed, relapsing for a moment into a child-like state. She shook her head and said, "No. You're right, of course. What directions did Vorador give you? I will gladly help in any way I can." "Vorador has given instructions to help Novanus and Gad any way I can. The mortal there carries the Sword of the Serioli. He is a descendant of that line, though Gad could tell you more of that. They are trying to stop the return of the Nerayan."  
Lessa leaned back in her chair. "As for Kain..." Lessa sighed. "He's in a bad way, betrayed by the ones he trusted and defeated by the Sarafan Lord. We have healed him somewhat but his mind is broken and we don't know how to restore it. No doubt Vorador will find a way though. So I'm sure Vorador will take good care of him, he maybe our only hope to kill the Sarafan Lord. We have been hunted to the brink and stand on the edge of the knife. So that is how it is. What of you?" Lessa asked. She wanted to know what Jessie would do. Would she go to Kain or help them?  
Lessa sat, waiting for a reply from her and to hear from either Gadorian or Novanus as to where they were hiding. If anything, this hut would be the best thing for now. Lessa hoped they were alright, but for now she would protect Izael. Lessa owed it to them both.

Jessie thought for a moment, considering the choice before her. She wanted to help Kain directly, but if this world was overrun by the Nerayan, it would not matter if she was with Kain or not. Her best course of action would be to trust Vorador's skill, which she held a high regard for, and try to aid her new friends as best as she could.  
"I will help you, of course," began Jessie. "It would serve no purpose for me to go to Kain right now. There is nothing I could do for him at this time. I will aid you in the upcoming battle. You will need my help and perhaps I will remember something from a past 'life' that will prove useful." As if listening to her own words, Jessie sifted through her memories, trying to find something that would help their current situation. For now, all she remembered of the Nerayan was that they were wraiths of some sort, and they wanted her to join them. She did not want to lose her friends, her identity, or what semblance of free will that she possessed to the ravenous appetite of the Nerayan.  
Lessa noticed the pause and was about to say something, but she held back her words. Jessie seemed to be lost in thought and Lessa was reluctant to interrupt her. Suddenly, Jessie refocused on Lessa and asked, "What of your other friends? Have they told you where they are yet? Have you tried reaching them? I seem to remember how to whisper to Novanus, if you want me to try." Jessie stopped talking and waited for Lessa's reply.

"I have been trying but I sense a weakness that wasn't there before, and it worries me. I will try to contact Gad. He will tell us where to meet," Lessa replied. Lessa closed her eyes. She was not as close to Gad as she was to Vorador and Novanus, so she would have to find Gad's mind in the jumble of others. Finally she found his mind and smiled. "Gad...Gad...can you hear me?"


	23. Chapter 23

Regrouping

Izael was standing near a river. Around him, the first snow was slowly falling from the clouded skies. The river was half-frozen, its water like liquid crystal. All was quiet. Peaceful. Suddenly a female voice called out for him, "Izael..." Izael followed the voice across the river and into the nearby woods. He stumbled onward, deeper into the forest, following that strange voice. Suddenly he came upon a cottage that looked familiar. It was the cottage where he was sleeping right now! He opened the door and came in seeing Lessa and Jessie talking around the table. Lessa concentrated on whispering someone. Izael could hear her thoughts. "Gad, where are you? How can we find you?" and he heard a response coming far away... so far... "In Meridian. Where are you? Is everything ok?" and Izael could hear Lessa reply, "We're in Jessie's cottage," and suddenly the image of the cottage came into his mind, then a route into there. Gadorian replied, "Stay there, I am coming." Lessa opened her eyes again. Suddenly Izael was drawn away from the cottage. He traveled miles in an instant, and was suddenly in the Keep. Izael saw Him, His eyes burning with eternal fire. Near Him was a vampire, who too, like Lessa, opened his eyes and said, "They're in a cottage hidden with magic, a few miles from here." A female voice said again, "Whatever happens, you MUST NOT enter the portal, Izael!"  
Then he awoke. Izael was in his bed. Darkness surrounded him. He hadn't meant to sleep, but obviously he had been all too tired. All was quiet, except for the talking coming from the next room. "Gadorian says he is coming. We must wait." Izael looked out of the window only to see snowflakes fall slowly from the sky, confirming his worst fears. "They ARE coming. It wasn't a mere dream. We must leave." He had fallen asleep in full plate, and his body ached as if it was on fire. Izael needed to use healing magic to be able to stand. It took him a lot of precious time, but then he was up. Slamming the door open, Izael burst into the room where Lessa and Jessie were talking. "They are coming! You have just revealed our location to them! We have to get out of here!"

Far away, in Meridian, Gadorian suddenly felt a great feeling of nameless dread creep into his mind. Something was very wrong. Novanus walked to the door of his room and attempted to put his key in the lock, but dropped it on the floor. The vampire cursed his clumsiness. What was wrong with him? He'd never felt so ridiculous in all his life. "If my masters could see me now," he mumbled. With his key in the lock, Novanus twisted it and entered his chambers. The sun was just beginning to appear through the windows. Novanus walked over and closed the shutters and looked around the room.  
The furnishings were far from the elaborate surroundings he was used to. The wooden boards which made up the floor were a mish-mash of different colors and wood. There was no decoration around the room save for a rustic picture above the fireplace. The image was of the Nosgoth's landscape before the corruption of the Circle of Nine. In the background of the picture, the Pillars were just visible disappearing into the clouds.  
Novanus walked over to the bed and sat down. He was troubled. He had managed to suppress the voice that he had been hearing of late, but it was requiring all of his concentration. He felt as if his mind was being constantly struck by a sledge hammer, and it left him feeling weak and vulnerable. He needed to know what was wrong with him. Novanus lay back on his bed and began to slow his breathing.  
In the Astral realm, the elemental tides had shifted from the predominance of air and water which were at there highest at night. Now with daylight beginning to fill the landscape, fire and earth had moved to be the dominating elements in the astral planes. Novanus looked through the eyes of his ethereal form. The landscape of Nosgoth appeared the same as in the material world, but it was less distinct. The outlines of all objects were blurred and infused with the different elements of which they were composed. Novanus' astral form floated out of the inn and into the sky above it. In the distance, Novanus could see the astral form of the Temple. In an instant, he was floating next to the ancient structure. If he had been living, his heart would have skipped a beat. If in the material realm the temple was considered beautiful, then here, on the astral planes, it was ten fold the sight. The colors that infused it were incredible and it glittered like a gem stone catching the light. Snakes of elemental energy ran up the columns, which supported its weight, all leading towards the centre of the dome. At its pinnacle a beam of golden light lanced off into the skies above. In the distance, Novanus could see the Pillars emitting the same type of beam, but the light was less bright, less pure. Occasionally, Novanus could see one of the beams faltering and then resurging in power. The decay that infused them was sickening.  
_You were foolish to come here._ Novanus whirled his body around to see where the voice had come from. Just to the left of the temple, a black cloud had formed. The mere sight of it made Novanus cringe. The cloud was an affront to all life and the vampire could sense a great unsatisfied hunger reaching out towards him. "Who are you?" he called out to the emanation. _We are the inevitable. Join us Novanus. Come to our embrace_. Novanus felt himself almost uncontrollably drawn to the emanation and he had begun to float towards the dark outstretched tentacles of the cloud before he regained control of himself. He yanked his mind away from the darkness and returned to his body.  
Novanus sat up breathing heavily. What had it been? Why did it want him? Before he could think any further, the rising sun forced his body into the sleep that all vampires must have during the day.

Izael burst into the room where Jessie and Lessa were, but Jessie did not hear his frantic warning. The cottage faded away from her and her mind retreated into itself. The Nerayan were growing stronger, and with that strength came boldness. They did not even bother to hide themselves from her. In fact, they seemed to be gloating, happy. Their goal was in sight...they were about to claim victory...their joy and excitement spilled over into Jessie, but she knew those emotions weren't her own. Then, as quickly as these alien feelings of joy had come, they were replaced by a great sense of disappointment and Jessie regained control of herself. She smiled. This sense of relief was her own. For the time being, the Nerayan had been denied their prize and she remained free.

Novanus' party set out the next night. Somewhere, a few paces ahead of them, a fox darted forward. It avoided the moonlight, and so its presence was only known by the rustling it made through the leaves. The trouble was the fact that it was running at all; they were traveling not nearly as stealthy as a typical party of vampires. Novanus, supported by Gadorian, leaned forward and mumbled something; whether it was human, ancient, or some tongue the world had not yet heard, Gadorian could not tell. Abel seemed much more capable of interpreting the sounds, but he listened not so much to any words as to the emotions Novanus labored to express.  
"He's in a bad way...If he doesn't wake up, I'm not sure if we can maintain this pace," Abel warned. "No...we have to." A strange foreboding colored all of Gadorian's words. He was filled with a terrible sense of trepidation, yet the feeling seemed as if it were displayed through the lens of another's soul. It was not vampiric, for the whisper had a distinct signature in the mind's eye. Still, Gadorian could not put his finger on the source. They continued onward, until Gadorian halted at a curious sound from behind them. "Ignore it. It's just a bird...yes...an owl." Novanus pulled harder on Gadorian's shoulder. His feet dragged across the forest floor.   
"He keeps getting worse, I don't understand it...He managed to get out a sentence or two as we left the inn." Gadorian was not sure if Abel was listening. The winged vampire moved along through the woods like a fish in some great sylvan reef. While Gadorian struggled to keep thorns and twigs from snapping against his face, Abel managed to leave not a feather behind, though his wings seemed to span further than his height. In such darkness, Abel was finally in his element. The group continued as such for another mile or so before again Gadorian was struck with a terrible fear in the pit of his stomach. This time, the source was clear. These emotions stemmed from Izael...

Abel, who by now had managed to move to the front of the stumbling party, stopped to rest the foot of his staff against the forested floor. "Ssussun." A gentle light radiated outward from the small crystals that hung from the carved spiral and spilled out into darkness. "Just follow my light," he said, glancing back with a smile before pressing on. "You shouldn't worry so much, Gadorian, it will only grow to be worse." He then said after a silent pause, "When one remains calm in hectic situations he will be the one with the most control." He added, "Especially when one knows what may befall him." The last of it, however, fell quieter.  
"Is there something you're not telling us?" Gadorian questioned, finding it just a bit easier to lug Novanus along now that he could see the ground below his feet. Abel answered, "I hold back nothing, all that is needed to draw information is the proper question and nothing more." Abel was growing increasingly strange as he retained the calm and collected demeanor, the same as when they had first met.

"My Lord, I have never seen you this despondent." Kour took a deep breath and looked up at the young apprentice. "I have to admit, Orugarde, for the first time I fear there is no hope." "There is always hope, My Lord." "Not this time, Orugarde. One cannot change the very nature of Man. Slaves to our thoughts and emotions, captivated by the senses, they guide our every move and action. Ill will turns to killing, hatred into violence. How can one change what is innate, to which one is inextricably bound?" A soft, gentle voice permeated Kour's mind and slowly came into focus... "Kour, my loyal friend and protector. There is still hope. Seek out the fallen one…. The Deva of the Grotto. Once a dweller of the higher realms, she now lives in seclusion below the surface. She has knowledge of the lower realm." "My Lady, what could she know that is not already known by the Elders?" "She knows… because she has been there."

"Izael, what do you mean? They shouldn't be able to hear me whisper," said Lessa, quickly rising from her chair. "Well, they have," replied Izael. Lessa bared her teeth in annoyance. How could they do that? She knew not, but it was plainly obvious it was no longer safe here. But where would they go? The snow was already deep outside. Their tracks would be plain for anyone to follow. "Jessie, you take Izael and head north. Izael can contact Gad and find out where to meet him. The sword should protect against outside influences listening in," Lessa said while quickly gathering her things and motioning for Seth to get up. "But Lessa, what are you going to do?" Izael asked, looking at her. She answered reassuringly, "I can create an illusion and make it look like we have all left and headed south. They will only see my tracks and an image of yours and think we have all traveled that way. It will buy you time to get to Gad." Lessa turned to leave.  
"No, Lessa, I'll come with you," said Izael, putting a hand on her arm. "NO. You are too important, we must get you to Gad so he can finish your training. You do not yet know how to use the full powers of the sword. Look what it got you last time. This is the only way. Don't worry, I don't plan on being killed by the Sarafan." Lessa took Seth's reigns and led him to the door. "Take care of him for me, Jessie, and get to Novanus quickly. I think he needs your help," Lessa said over her shoulder and opened the door into the night and the waiting snow.

Jessie watched Lessa leave with Seth. She wanted very much to stop Lessa from acting so foolishly—she did not want to see Lessa get hurt. However, strategically speaking, she knew Lessa was right. She set off with a reluctant Izael and they walked toward Gadorian and Novanus. In this form, Jessie still retained a small degree of power over the wind. She used this now to sweep away their tracks as they went.  
After an eternity of cold, blank, dreariness, Jessie thought she could sense a flicker of life up ahead, someone familiar to her. She could not place it, though. Suddenly, Izael forgot how much he hadn't wanted to come and rushed ahead urgently. Jessie hurried to catch up. There was definitely someone up ahead, and Izael seemed to know who it was, and sensed the need to get there quickly. Gadorian had said he was coming to them, so perhaps Jessie and Izael had met him halfway.  
Izael ran up to one of the figures that seemed to be carrying someone. Jessie saw this, but was immediately distracted by another image. She ran to this one, but checked herself before she got too close. She didn't want to run him over. "Abel?" she cried out. "What are you doing here? I didn't even know you had completed your metamorphosis. You seem somehow different, which is probably why I couldn't sense you. Nice wings, by the way."   
Abel smiled. He hadn't expected to find Jessie here, with Izael. He hadn't seen her since, well, since before she lost her last form. He wondered how she had managed to go and get that material body killed after all the work he had put into healing it. He wondered what she looked like this time, but dismissed the thought immediately. Jessie, however, had seen the quizzical look on his face and answered, "I appear human." Abel nodded, taking that into account for the next time Jessie decided to try something stupidly heroic and needed to be scraped up and repaired.

Astral Struggle

A shout from Gadorian drew the attention of both of them. They rushed over to catch Novanus as Gadorian's strength finally gave way. Jessie thought to herself, 'He looks so fragile. I've never seen Novanus like this before. Oh no! I can sense the Nerayan's consciousness around him. They are trying to wear his mind down into submission! Novanus is the one they intend to possess.' The realization carried with it a profound sense of dread. Jessie liked Novanus a lot and refused to kill him just to spite the Nerayan. She would have to find a way to save him.

Gadorian kneeled in the snow, catching his breath. As he stood up he noticed for the first time the girl crouched over the collapsed Novanus. She seemed familiar, and yet he had never seen her face. Something told him she too had the same sense of amnesia. Izael trudged up through the snow, "You made it! My warning! You got it! So now you-" Gadorian lifted his hand to momentarily silence Izael, and returned his attention to Novanus. "I'm not sure what's wrong with him, exactly, but he's fighting something inside. And it doesn't look like he is winning."  
Jessie looked up, flicking snow out of her eyes as she did so. "I think I can help him, but we have to hurry. Come," continued Jessie, "Help me carry him over there. Underneath that small rock overhang, we can work without the snow in our faces." Gadorian and Izael helped Jessie carry Novanus to the small bubble of quiet in the storm. Abel followed the sounds of their straining against the wind. Finally, Novanus was settled down and the others knelt closely around him. "What do you think?" Jessie asked Abel. His golden eyes stared blankly ahead as he studied Novanus. After a moment of thought, he replied, "They have him. It is only a matter of time before he gives in. There is no other choice." Izael jumped, interpreting this to mean that Novanus would have to be killed. He did not, could not, know what Jessie and Abel were planning to do.  
"Back away a little bit," commanded Jessie as she reached into her coat. She removed the red and gold jewel she had retrieved earlier. She handed it to Abel. "Ah...the HeartStone," Abel breathed out as he turned it over in his hands. He placed it on Novanus' chest and reached for Jessie's hand. She wrapped her hand around the HeartStone and Abel placed his hand on hers, reciting an ancient incantation.  
Izael drew in a sharp breath as the stone began to glow, softly at first, then very brightly. Gadorian had the nagging suspicion that he had heard of this artifact before, but he couldn't remember any details about it. The stone emitted a bright flash and Jessie groaned in pain, but did not move. The world faded away from her and she joined Novanus, who had once again been drawn to the Astral realm. The cloud of the Nerayan was very close to him. Suddenly, the Nerayan realized that they had company and began to move in Jessie's direction. Jessie realized that she and Novanus had one major battle on their hands. She hoped Novanus' mind would be strong enough to fight.

Novanus hung in the astral plane. His ethereal form was tattered and torn as the amorphous black cloud had slowly cut away at him piece by piece. He didn't know how much more he could take.  
He had been so close to escaping its clutches by returning to his own body but in his sleep he had, through no action of his own, projected his consciousness back to the Astral plane. The Wraithen had yanked him back and forced him into a confrontation. He had had no choice but to stand and fight. It was a losing battle. The immensity of the Nerayan's inhabitants was far to strong for one lone vampire to confront. Even with his knowledge of the spells of the ancients he was helpless. The magic was of no use here, all he could use were the weapons of the astral realm, and so far, Novanus could see very little damage inflicted.  
A bright flash caught Novanus' attention and the vampire knew that someone else had joined him. The Nerayan moved towards the newcomer, its black tentacles reaching for the form. Novanus wasted no time. He summoned up a spear of pure elemental energy and flung it straight into the dark emptiness of the Nerayan's form. The Nerayan flinched and turned its attention back to Novanus, its true prize. The vampire began to throw spear after spear at the oncoming cloud, but each was a little less powerful than the last, inflicting less and less damage. The black cloud sent a tentacle out which wrapped itself around his right forearm. It burned his ethereal form, sending waves of pain through his body. All of a sudden a blue ball of lighting shot straight into the cloud, breaking its contact with him. The other person in this realm was also attacking the Nerayan. Novanus glanced at the newcomer trying to see who it was. However, instead of a more or less human form which he expected to see, he saw a brilliant white mist. Jessie. Novanus had never felt so relieved in all his life. He had not seen the wraith for nearly two hundred years. The wraith released another bolt of blue energy which hit the Nerayan's dark shape and sent slivers of it shooting off in all directions, but the majority of its dark presence remained unharmed. Novanus wracked his brains for some weapon or means to help him. He knew he had missed something. He spun himself in all directions attempting to find something he could use.   
With no physical weapons present in the astral realm, Novanus would have to rely on some natural solution. In the distance, Novanus could see the Pillars blasting off their golden light into the sky. If Novanus had been in physical form he would have snapped his fingers. The energy that poured out of the Pillars and the Temple was pure elemental magic. With the elemental tides far from changing, these would be the only place where it would be dangerous for any astral form to go. There was no way that an astral projection could be maintained if one should become sucked into the maelstrom which whirled around them. It was impossible. Somehow he would have to lure his enemy into the maelstrom. Novanus called out to Jessie. "Follow me!" he cried to her mind. Novanus flew away from the shapeless Nerayan and headed straight to the Temple with Jessie in close pursuit, and the darkness not far behind.

"Orugarde, quickly…gather your things. We must leave." "What is wrong, my Lord? Where are we going?" "To find the Fallen One." "Not… The Deva? But, my Lord, she…." "Yes, Orugarde. I know. But we must go. The Priestess said the Deva has knowledge of the Lower Realm." "My Lord, how can a Deva of the Higher Realm have knowledge of the Lower Realm?" Kour mounted his horse, turned to Orugarde and said… "The Deva was once an inhabitant of the Nerayan."

Abel remained still and statuesque as he held his ground as their link to the Material Plane. It was strenuous indeed, and he prayed his frail body could hold out as long as his mind could, even as the Nerayan assaulted their new target. "No," Abel would say aloud to the questions the being shot at him from the other world, "No, it's not true." They were digging away at memories he wished to keep to himself, yet it sounded too loud to his ears the stress had made him forget that the others could not hear the scenario from where they sat. Yet still he knelt, keeping strong as their bridge from world to world. Though only time would tell, as his form began to shake, if the Nerayan would be able to use this bridge for themselves…

It took seconds for Novanus and Jessie to cover the ground between the Temple and where they had been fighting the Nerayan. They both stopped just short of the outpouring of energy which stemmed from the pinnacle of the citadel. They got as close as they dared with the dangerous elemental energies crackling in the space around them. The black cloud of consciousness moved ever closer, its dark tentacles reaching out towards them. Novanus mentally whispered to Jessie, "On my signal jump out of the way." The cloud moved relentlessly closer. Its speed increased every moment. Three hundred feet, two hundred feet, one hundred feet…  
"NOW!" Novanus yelled and projected his form out of the way of the oncoming mass. With an inhuman cry the tentacles moved round to try and snag at Jessie, but too late already one of them had been caught in the elemental twister, pulling the rest of its form into the column of energy. Oddly it began to laugh even as its shape was been torn apart. _And your champion will fall Novanus…. And we will have you …. Soon._   
The laugh faded away as the black nothingness of the Nerayan was shredded by the magic which reached from the Temple. They had lost their hold on the astral plane and would have to find another way of breaking through to the material realm, but it would not be long before that happened. Novanus clung to the pitiful shreds of his ethereal form. "You know I really liked this suit," Novanus said to Jessie, laughing feebly. Jessie sent a flow of warm emotion to Novanus showing her amusement. "Get back into your body, you daft fool." Novanus did just that.

Jessie watched tensely as Novanus left the Astral realm, then was very relieved when she knew he had made it back to his body. She gave one last look around, as if reassuring herself that the Nerayan were gone for now, then she began to concentrate on returning to her own material form.  
Even before she started, she knew something was wrong. Although the Nerayan's manifestation in the Astral realm had been destroyed by the pure elemental energy of the Temple, her mind still felt somewhat constricted. It felt like there was an invisible layer of gauze all around her, and as she noticed it, it grew more forceful. The Nerayan had merely sacrificed the cloud to lull Jessie and Novanus into letting down their guard. They were still here, and they intended to consume her without Novanus' intervention. She tried to struggle free, but found that she could not move. They had taken her unaware and had paralyzed her Astral form. She had only one option to avoid joining that which she most hated—to join that which she only merely despised.  
Using all the energy she could muster, she called out to Abel, "Release the stone! Break the connection!" She knew that Abel had received her message because almost instantly she felt the sense of loss and emptiness that meant her material body, sword and all, had disintegrated without a mind to hold it together. The Nerayan interpreted this as a surrender and eagerly tried to pull her to their realm, but something stopped them. Someone else laid claim to her soul and was pulling her in the opposite direction. Thus a macabre tug of war began with Jessie caught in the middle.

The Snow was falling in a thick tide of white as Lessa led her pursuers on their merry chase. She wondered how long she could keep this up. They would find her eventually. She sent waves of thought out to see if Novanus was alright, and was reassured by the strength she felt there. It felt as though Jessie had helped him. Lessa rode on, not caring where she went in this snow. She would be on top of them before she knew it. It was then that she felt something strange. The snow that before had been pure and white now looked black. The feeling of trees around her went, and a feeling of nothingness remained. Seth began to get uneasy and suddenly he reared and ran off. "SETH, SEEETH!" Lessa called, but he did not return. In fact she could no longer hear his hooves meet ground. Then a sound came from behind and her muscles froze. A growl that turned into a laugh made her skin crawl.  
"HA HA HA HA. You will do for now, dark one. If we can not have Novanus, you will do to get close to him, HA HA HA!" the voice mocked in a terrible din. "I will never betray Novanus, so you can forget it," replied Lessa, struggling to get free. "HA HA HA. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU HAVE A CHOICE?" the laugh almost deafened her.  
The darkness started to swell, then it rushed at her as if it was the sea. It coiled around her legs and started to spread like the cold grasp of death. Lessa made one desperate cry to Novanus to tell him not to trust her, "NOVANUS, DON'T TRUST..." but the dark tide that was the Nerayan consumed her.  
Seth, unable to find his mistress, ran to the one he knew she trusted. He ran, locking on the essence that was Novanus. Maybe he would know where she was, and he knew she would want him to help Novanus if she was dead.

The Nerayan tugged at Jessie's soul, and for once Jessie struggled to go with the other presence that was pulling her away from them. It seemed to be a draw. Jessie was beginning to resign herself to being here for quite some time when she suddenly felt a lapse in the Nerayan's strength. She caught a glimmer of their thought, of what had distracted them, before the other presence took advantage of the lessened resistance and broke her free.  
Jessie hovered in the Astral realm for a moment, free of the suffocating presence of the Nerayan, before everything whirled out of control and she felt herself falling down to the lair of her "benefactor." She would have to be equally careful not to lose herself here, but at least she knew what to expect.  
"So, you actually wanted to come here this time?" came the voice, followed by sinister laughter. Jessie mentally gulped and began to re-examine her decision. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. She wondered if she could have broken free of the Nerayan on her own as she was surrounded by several large tentacles. Escape this time might be impossible.

As Novanus returned to his physical form, Abel drew back his hands from the ancient stone, clasping his hands to the sides of his throbbing head. They were gone, but the memories unearthed and the bashing they had done to dig them up was left behind as a parting gift. At least Novanus was alright, and Jessie... "L-Little One?" he said wearily, dizzily attempting to stand, "Where is she? Is she alright?"


	24. Chapter 24

Tying Up Loose Ends In Order to Move On

The Redemption left its port at midnight on schedule. This ship started its engines and began to make its way to the unknown island on the south. On the starboard deck, two Sarafan guards casually conversed. "Clear night tonight, isn't it?" "I don't like it when it's this quiet. There aren't any seagulls over head." "Oh, quit complaining. You know, you have the bluest eyes." Suddenly a shadow fell upon them, wheedling a staff with two axes on each side; Lent made short work of the two Sarafan. He had stowed away on board, the cargo would be his prize, and all he had to do was take it.  
"There, below! Sound the alarm," the captain said. Green flashes struck the air, in the distance Lent could hear the guards mass on interceptor ships to catch up. Guards came from below, drew their swords and attacked him. Lent remained calm, he felt his new power and strength aid him, and he took out another five guards, dodging their blows so fast that most of them hit each other. He didn't have much time; the interceptors were almost to the ship.  
Lent ran to the bridge, and a guard swung his sword at him. Lent blocked the sword with the staff part, kicked it out of his enemy's hands, and thrust his axe into his opponent's side. The captain drew his sword, but Lent kicked the previous guard's sword as it fell. It flew in the air and impaled the captain to the wall. Lent looked at the decks, seeing that two Sarafan interceptors had already caught up and lines were drawn up. They were climbing up to swarm him. Lent grabbed the wheel and turned it clockwise, causing the large freighter to turn sharply and crush the smaller ship on the starboard side. He ran down to the main deck and started cutting the ropes. Screams of Sarafan filled the air as their bodies splashed in the water with each rope Lent cut.  
More guards came out from below deck; Lent met them and fought them back. There were too many - seven guards on the deck and at least ten were climbing up the port side. Lent killed two guards as four more made it up top. Despite his new abilities, he could not hold them back forever. A sword was thrust at his side, and he was hard pressed to dodge it. He quickly spun around the guard's back and took off his head. Six more climbed up and surrounded him. They looked at him grinning. "So, thought you could steal this cargo, did you? Think again."  
Suddenly the ship hit land. Lent and all twelve guards were thrown forward, off the ship and onto the snowy shore. Lent hit the ground and felt his left arm break with a snap. He shook his head as he stood. He reached to grab his axe staff, but dropped it. "Oww," he groaned as he grabbed his broken arm. He chanted a few words. Blood dripped down from his hand, despite having no cut, and his arm was healed. The powers he gained as a Loki Priest were starting to pay off.  
Lent regained his senses and looked around. Two guards died in the crash, the other ten were regaining their composure. 'Ten against one,' Lent thought, but he didn't care for a fair fight anyway. The sound of crushed snow struck his ear. He turned and saw a familiar vampire face. Lent looked and gasped in disbelief, "Lessa."

The thing that was Lessa saw the puny mortal in front of her and stepped over him. The Sarafan were her concern. She hungered. She ran at them, cutting and slicing, drinking their blood, reveling in their cries. Before they knew it, it was over. She turned and looked at one she thought she knew and the others huddling behind him for protection. Then she turned and walked into the blaze of white falling snow. Smiling, the thing that was Lessa turned North. There was work to be done.

Jessie looked around her, trying to adjust to the shimmering unreality of the spectral realm after having been away for so long. 'This place would be almost beautiful if it wasn't a prison,' she thought to herself. Slowly she dragged herself up into a sitting position and faced the eye of the Elder God.  
"Don't flatter yourself," she began. "You know I had no other choice." The Elder God chuckled and replied, "Still, you chose my company over that of the Nerayan. You really should consider that offer I made to you." Jessie was about to yell 'Never,' but she held her tongue. Her friends needed her and she had no time to figure out how to escape. Last time it had taken her forever, and even then she had had help.   
She said, "So, you are familiar with the Nerayan, then? You know of them, of their nature?" The Elder God answered, "I have some knowledge of them. It took a threat like that to get you to return to me? I'm hurt." Jessie thought for a moment how to respond. She knew he was toying with her, but she needed for him to release her voluntarily. She replied, "Don't be. I like the material realm and that's all there is to it. Speaking of the material realm, my friends are waging battle against the Nerayan as we speak. I need to rejoin them."  
This amused the Elder God, that Jessie would actually expect for him to release her just because she wanted to prevent her friends from dying, from rejoining the Wheel of Fate. She was up to something. The Elder God decided to play along for a bit and perhaps take advantage of Jessie's desperation to return to the material realm. He said, "I'm listening."   
'Good,' Jessie thought to herself. 'Perhaps this will work.' Out loud, she said, "If you have any knowledge of the Nerayan at all, you know that they feed upon minds. They will consume all beings in Nosgoth, especially the mortals. Where does this leave you? Your Wheel of Fate will have no souls for you to turn on it. You will starve."  
The Elder God had not expected this, but once said, it seemed rather obvious to him. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Jessie was rather clever, but perhaps he could still out-maneuver her. "Ah...So you want me to release you to fight the Nerayan and save my source of sustenance. Very well," he said as he moved some of his tentacles to create a clear exit. "But before you leave, answer my question. How do you regenerate energy?"  
This was exactly what Jessie had been waiting for. With an unanticipated burst of speed, she moved for the exit. Before the Elder God could even respond, she was gone. All that remained behind was the echo of her final taunt, "Very slowly!" 'Oh, well,' thought the Elder God. He had almost expected for that to happen. No matter. Jessie was sure to get herself killed again, and when she did, the Elder God would be waiting.

Izael looked into forest, trying to make out any signs of movement. He was growing worried. "Lessa still hasn't arrived. We've been waiting for too long. Something must've happened. Hiding our tracks cannot take this long. Does anyone have any suggestion? What will be our next move? We're missing many members, and are without a place to stay. The hour is dark for us indeed."

Novanus sat up with a start. He had been gone from his body for so long that it felt as if he didn't belong, but the feeling soon subsided. Novanus tried to stand up but found that his legs would not support him. He fell back to the forest floor with a thud.  
"Let me help you, my lord," said Admar, putting down his bowl of food. "Sit down, Admar, eat your meal, I'll be fine." Admar sat back down grumbling to himself but he knew better than to argue with his lord. Novanus was far too stubborn for his own good.  
Gadorian turned his head to look at the newly wakened Novanus. "You're awake then." "Gadorian," Novanus said weakly. "You have an amazing talent for stating the obvious. Where is everyone? What's happened while I was gone?" "Jessie disappeared. We don't know where she's gone. Her body just dissolved not long after she went to help you. Izael and Lessa met her, but got separated. Izael doesn't know where she is now. She raced off on that confounded horse of hers." "Jessie will be ok," Novanus smiled softly. "Losing a body has never stopped her before." Gadorian smiled dimly, casting his eyes down to the forest floor. He had been gone for such a short time but so much had happened since they had left the inn. Novanus crawled over to Gadorian. "What's wrong, old friend?" "Friend?" laughed Gadorian. "Novanus, we may be many things, but we are not old friends." Novanus sighed, "None-the-less, we are friends now, I hope, and I can tell something is troubling you." "Reading my thoughts again, you mind leech? Be careful, you may not like what you find." "I don't need telepathy to know that something is wrong with you." Gadorian cast his eyes down to the forest floor and said, "I apologize, Novanus, that remark was unbecoming of me. I am just not feeling too sure of myself." He was staring into the flames of the camp fire as he said this.  
Novanus struggled over to Gadorian and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, saying, "We can win, you know. We will win." Gadorian looked up at the other vampire and smiled. "Can we? Are you so sure of that?" "Gadorian, don't think like that, if the Nerayan sense any kind of weakness in any of us they will exploit it." Gadorian turned and rummaged through the bag of things they had brought from the Temple. He handed the blood chalice to Novanus. "Here," he said, "You need this."   
Novanus took the chalice and drank greedily. He didn't know how the chalice's magic worked, but it kept the blood warm, and that was all he wanted. He felt the heat of the blood spread slowly through his body. He had drunk all of the blood when the chalice cracked and refilled itself. Novanus drank again. It would take time for the blood to fully infuse his body, but he was already feeling better. He stood up and walked shakily away from Gadorian towards Izael, who was sitting staring at the Sword of the Serioli.  
"It says 'Albornia'. It means 'bringer of hope'," he said, noticing that the young mortal was staring at the runes carved into the hilt. "I carved those myself a long time ago." He sat down next to the ex-Sarafan. "That was the name my masters gave it and instructed me to carve. May I?" he asked. Izael smiled and handed him the sword. Novanus took the blade and held it in front of him, the pommel stone resting on his wrist and the point reaching into the forest. It hummed as he held it as if remembering his all-too-familiar touch. "Mastering Albornia is like mastering yourself. You see, you are both part of each other. You must stop seeing a sword in your hand. Instead, see an extension of yourself. That's why your use of the sword has been so sporadic. The power of your ancient heritage is in every part of your being, but the sword is the key to tapping that power. Without it, your power lies dormant."  
Izael look at Novanus, puzzled, so Novanus added, "You'll get what I mean, just think about it a little. Don't be afraid to practice, it's the only way the two of you will truly get to know each other." "What do you mean know…. You mean it's alive?" Izael's face showed his surprise. Novanus explained, "After a fashion. It has a consciousness and a sense of being, but there is no personality or any such thing. The sword was forged with a purpose, to defend this realm against the Nerayan, and it will help you in any way it can to achieve that goal." Novanus stood up slowly and smiled, saying, "I'll leave you to your thoughts now."   
Novanus walked back to the fire and sat down. Gadorian had listened to the entire exchange between Izael and Novanus. "Thank you, Nova." "The talk was long overdue, Gadorian. He needed to know in order to fulfill his role in the upcoming events. The Nerayan have got much stronger far quicker than I expected. We will have to quicken our pace. Time is running out."  
A crash in the forest made all of the party turn their heads in unison. Something was heading their way. Another crash, and this time Novanus could see the tree that fell. With a screech, a demonic steed leapt into the clearing. Novanus recognized the mind of Seth, Lessa's stallion. "Seth," he said, "where is Lessa? A look of pure panic was in the horse's eye. Novanus walked over and took hold of the bridal just as the horse reared up. The vampire laid a gentle hand on the dragon-like neck of the animal. "That's Seth?" asked Izael. "Aye, lad, it is. I remember the first time I saw what he really looked like, I nearly soiled myself." Novanus smiled at Admar's comment.  
"Easy, my friend, no one will harm you here, easy," Novanus continued to sooth the uneasy Seth until it was as docile as usual around the group. Slowly, ever so slowly, the mirage of the black stallion that they all knew once again settled over his form. "There, you see? Our own Seth, he was just frightened," said Novanus. "Wait, if he's here, then where's Lessa?" asked Abel. The blind vampire had asked a very apt question. Where was the female vampire?

Lent watched Lessa walk away. He knew better than to stop her, just as he knew that the creature he saw was not Lessa. He wanted to help her, but had not the knowledge to do so. "You there!" a voice said behind him, "What's your business?" Lent turned to see four Sarafan Knights. 'They must have been following her,' Lent thought to himself. He didn't bother with explanations, he just ran straight at them, taking out one after another in a series of acrobatic feats. When it was all done, Lent stood in the blood-soaked snow with the four bodies sprawled in pieces around him.  
Finally feeling a sense of accomplishment, Lent climbed aboard the ship and made his way below deck. Sounds of moaning and agony filled the cold ship. Inside, cages were stacked one on top of another, just like in his dream. Grabbing a set of keys, Lent went over and began to unlock all of the cages. Lent watched as the people rushed out and made their way to the upper deck. He guessed there were about fifty cages all together, each carrying twenty people or so. 'That's almost a thousand people! What were the Sarafan planning to do with these slaves?' Lent wondered.  
After each cage was opened, and all the people had left, Lent made his way to the upper deck and was greeted by a thousand faces. Their arms reached out to touch him, "Thank you! You saved me. Thanks! We all owe you!" they cried out. "Go to your homes, go to your families, and know that you do not owe your lives to me, you owe them to the one who sent me." "And who sent you?" one asked. "Kain, the vampire balance guardian destined to rule all of Nosgoth," Lent answered proudly. "We have nowhere to go, the Sarafan took all from us," came their protests. Lent answered, "Then tear this ship apart and use its wood and metal to build a town right here. Start a new life, build new homes, and tell your children so they might tell their children; you owe your life to Kain." "What is your name good sir?" "Lent." "Bless you, bless you, Sir Lent."  
Lent made his way through the crowd. It was difficult, their out-stretched arms blocked his view, the crowds of people said many praises and thanks. "Sir Lent, the living Saint. Hail Saint Lent." But Lent was no longer interested in them, he had done his job. He ignored their praise and made his way to the snowy ground. Lessa had to be found. Whatever it was that possessed her, Nerayan or Demon, it now had Lent to deal with. Meanwhile, far away, Izael was muttering to himself in frustration, "Dammit, every time I look away, Lessa gets into trouble. No doubt she's run into the very same group she tried to distract away from me and Jessie, which means she is probably being held at the Keep right now. Any suggestions on how do we get her out of there?"

The Grotto… Kour had heard tales of the Deva, of her dwelling underground, but he had passed them off as just that… tales of myth without substance. Now the tales were truth. 'Ironic,' Kour thought. He should have paid more attention. As they cleared the forest, the air grew colder and distant fog gave way to a view Kour had not seen in a long time. The mountains… silent, unforgiving, majestic and cruel… he reveled at the inherent contradiction. He loved to breathe the cool, fresh air and regretted not spending more time here. The climb up the mountain served difficult for the horses. Kour and Orugarde would have to leave them behind at the next plateau.  
As they rode, Kour's thoughts lingered on the timing of the Nerayan emergence. "Why now? We've been at 'war' for so long, why this time in particular?" The words cascaded through Kour's mind to no conclusion. They reached the final plateau. "The horses can go no further, we'll have to go on foot." Orugarde dismounted while Kour hooked the reins to a nearby outcrop. "The entrance to the Grotto is up ahead, we should reach it before dusk."

The thing that was Lessa was getting mad. The mind of Lessa was stronger than it had expected. It constantly assaulted her mind to get her to tell her where her friends were, and of their weaknesses, but she with-held the information from them. All the thing could hear was an old song, and it was driving it mad. No matter. It could sense where they were roughly and so it headed that way. No doubt her blasted mount would be there. That thing would be harder to fool, it had nearly warned Lessa that they were coming but, luckily, it had run in fear. As the thing that was Lessa walked, it sensed a mortal behind following, but it was of no consequence. Finally it came to a forest and could see trees that had been newly felled, probably by that horse. It smiled. There was a fire in a small cave in the center, and around the fire it could make out the forms of the ones it wanted. 'Their dream of defeating us will be over soon,' it thought at Lessa, and it smiled at her cry of anger. It would wait until they felt safe...then destroy them.


	25. Chapter 25

The Darkness Within Lessa

Jessie sped through the Spectral realm without wasting time on the ghoulish creatures that tried to get in her way. She was focusing on the beacon hidden in one of the closed-off rooms of her own private sanctuary. At length, she came upon the mountain in which her sanctuary was hidden. She phased through the mountain wall in just the right place and emerged in her own little world separated from Nosgoth because no one else knew how to access it. The walls of this place were specially designed to focus her raw energy and allow her to create a material form.  
Jessie moved to the center of the cavern, but then she hesitated. What form should she take? She wanted a powerful form, but not one that would take too much energy. She also had to consider the fact that if the Nerayan did manage to corrupt her, her friends would have to be able to defeat her. After much deliberation, she opted for the form she had just lost, but with a few improvements.  
Jessie's form began to be visible in the material realm as a glowing white ball of light in the center of the cavern. The light got brighter as more of herself entered the material realm. When she had willed enough of her energy through the conduit between realms that her sanctuary provided, she began to convert the energy to matter.  
There was a bright flash as her energy suddenly expanded outwards, little white slivers going in all directions. The energy packets hit the walls of the cavern, followed along little tracks carved into the walls, and left at just the right places. The cavern focused the energy back to the center, like a lens, in just the right way to allow Jessie to control it. First, she formed a skeleton. Then she added muscle, flesh, clothes, armor, and finally her sword. She checked over herself to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.  
She walked over to the rock wall where she knew the exit to be, pushed in the right place to activate the button, and the door opened before her. She walked through to the central room, where she had retrieved the HeartStone earlier, and the door closed behind her. She looked around to see if there was anything she could use and her gaze settled on a pair of daggers. They looked just like miniature versions of her sword. She put them in their sheaths and concealed one on each wrist. Then she grabbed a pouch containing a very special herb—the antidote to the Wraithen poison her daggers used, just in case one of her friends was injured by her weapons. She glanced over everything one last time, then decided to focus in on the combined signatures of Novanus and Abel. Just this once, it was worth the energy to teleport.

Izael awakened from his dream. He felt dizzy and when he looked around, he could see that sun was about to rise. Everyone else was asleep. What had awakened him? Then he heard it again, a soft female voice whispering his name. LESSA! Izael stood up and walked into the forest. There, in a clearing, stood Lessa. "You made it!" Izael said. Lessa gestured not to speak too loudly. "Follow me, I must tell you something. I am not yet prepared to tell it to the others." Something was not right, Izael could sense it. However, he did as she asked and followed her deeper into the woods, into a small clearing. A smile came over her face. "Now, they will not hear your screams." Izael backed away, his hand reaching for Albornia. He remembered Novanus' words, "Mastering Albornia is like mastering yourself." But how could he ever use it against Lessa? "What's wrong with you? Lessa? LES-" Izael couldn't speak further before she attacked. However, her attack was blocked. "Lent? What's going on here?" Lent couldn't really answer because the next moment he was hanging in the air, Lessa's powers having paralyzed him. Izael felt that same dark presence reach for him. It used his weakness, unwillingness to hurt his friend, and before Izael realized it, he was hanging in the air too. He tried to scream, but couldn't. Lessa laughed. "You really thought YOU could oppose us? Pathetic human. You are no savior." Finally Izael realized. The Nerayan. He felt himself suffocating. "You don't even deserve a swift death for your arrogance. However, there are others even more foolish than you. You were only a pawn. Join us, or die knowing your friends will suffer even more than YOU EVER DID." A wave of pain struck Izael. He couldn't scream, he couldn't defend himself. He writhed in unseen agony.

Suddenly Lessa let out a scream. Izael was released. He looked at Lessa, who said, "Run. Tell the others I am sorry." Lent turned to look at Izael and say, "Go, get the others here." Then Lessa attacked. Lent could block some of her attacks, but was forced to back away. Then he was hanging in the air again. Izael drew Albornia. "Now try killing me, you vile beasts!" However, time was running out. The sun would rise soon. Izael made one desperate attack, and managed to surprise the entity possessing Lessa. She fell to the ground, bleeding from a deep wound on her chest. "Yes, kill your friend. It will not matter much for us. You are already doomed, sooner or later." Izael attacked again, this time making Lessa scream in agony as she received another deep wound. His third cut missed. Izael realized he was blinded by his tears. This fight couldn't go on for long. However, Lessa seemed to be able to gain control of herself for a while. Lent dropped to the ground again. He blew to the object hanging around his neck, and Lessa froze. "C'moon, we gotta get her to the shelter. She will fall asleep and will not be a danger...at least for a while."

A green flash woke up Admar. He yawned, then looked to where the flash had come from. A form was materializing in the center of the glow. The form gained substance as the glow subsided into a shimmer of bright dust. He couldn't make out who was there, and then he was fully awake and comprehension dawned. "Jessie?" he shouted, waking up the others. Jessie smiled and said, "Yes. I'm back." Admar asked, "Is that how you gain a material form?" Jessie laughed, almost wishing it was that easy, before she replied, "No. That was only teleporting. Building a material body requires much more energy and concentration." Abel came up to them, greatly relieved to find Jessie alright. Jessie was equally relieved that the Nerayan had not taken advantage of Abel's contact with the HeartStone to possess him.  
Novanus walked over and Jessie jumped, then said, "Oh! You're you!" Novanus joked, "Last time I checked." Jessie laughed, then tried to explain herself, "When the Nerayan were trying to possess me, I briefly touched their mind. They were very happy about possessing someone, someone with a vampiric energy signature. I had feared it was you, considering the lengths they went to in order to draw you into the Astral realm. But if you're fine, and Abel is as well, who did they get?" Then, after a moment of considering, "Where is Lessa? Uh-oh! It's got to be Lessa they have! And Izael is missing, too. This does not bode well."

Lessa was in a dark place where she was bound to the blackness by chains. She could hear the Nerayan whispering, trying to get her to tell, but she would not. She had been singing the song for hours. Vorador had said it would ward against evil. She didn't know if that part of it worked but it kept her sane. She had seen flashes of what it had been doing with her body, holding Lent in the air, and attacking Izael. Then she had felt pain, and seen Izael's tear-streaked face behind his sword as he hacked at her. She did not mind, it had to be done. Now she could feel the Nerayan's anger at being so close to killing Izael and failing. She laughed. "What's wrong, oh powerful one? Missed your mark?" Lessa taunted. She was rewarded with a jolt of pain that brought her to her knees. "YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO TAUNT US, DARK ONE!" came the booming voice. "But you have failed, and the fact that you're here tells me you no longer control my body, so there is hope. If they have sense they will kill me," Lessa replied. The voice returned, "No, they will not kill you. They care for you too much. No, you will live and we will finish what we have started." "You may have me bound here, but I have shown I can stop you and, given time, I will break free of this place and cleanse you from my mind," Lessa said smiling. She had time, for she had realized that it took them great amounts of energy to control people when they faced resistance. All Lessa had to do was wait.

Admar spoke out, "We have to try and win her back from it, my lord. We can't just leave her. And what about Izael and Lent?" Novanus began to think. He wasn't the same vampire he had been just a few days ago. So much had happened that had influenced him more than two millennia of life had. They would save her, but if she was under the power of the Nerayan, then the fight would be for Lessa to win and not them. Izael and Lent were another matter.  
"We better get ready to leave and find them." Novanus turned and walked to pack away his belongings. As he reached out, his right arm felt as if it was burning with a feeling something akin to water touching vampiric flesh. He knelt down with his back to the others, who were busily organizing themselves. He then rolled back his right sleeve. Novanus' eyes went wide. A band of pitch black skin covered almost a fifth of his forearm. It had never been there before. It was in exactly the place where the Nerayan had grabbed him in the astral planes. What was wrong with him? He rolled down his sleeve and attached his belongings to Seth's saddle. "Are we ready," he asked. Various nods of agreement indicated the answer. Novanus walked Seth into the forest in the direction that Izael had last taken.

Izael and Lent were progressing slowly. They had to drag paralyzed Lessa with them, and then paralyze her again when she awoke. Izael felt exhausted. They had been walking slowly for hours, yet they seemed to be no nearer to their camp. Izael was afraid they were lost. Worse, he had to fight back against the Nerayan, who were like a dark cloud in the back of his mind. He couldn't go on much longer. He simply couldn't. At least he had left his armor back at the camp. Suddenly Lessa came alive again. With a quick move she threw Izael off from her with one hand, while ripping the whistle from around Lent's neck. Izael flew through the air for a while, then landed heavily against a tree with a thud. Lessa walked to him, smiling evilly. "Foolish human. We have being playing all along, sapping your strength until you're too weak to confront us." Lessa raised her hand and punched Izael in the face. Izael's nose broke and blood dropped to the snow. The thing that had taken over Lessa's body lifted Izael's head and forced him to open his mouth. "Now, what happens to a mortal when he drinks the blood of a vampire?..." The thing laughed at the horror in Izael's eyes. "NO!" Lent kicked Lessa to the ground. "Izael, RUN! GO! I will hold her with my life." But Lessa was up again, saying, "Your life holds no meaning. You cannot paralyze us. Poor human, how do you think you can win? And what comes to that...child, he cannot run anymore. We are sorry, but this IS the end." Izael floated closer to Lessa, unable to move. He struggled with his mind. He had to break free. HE HAD TO! With desperation, he broke from the spell, but he was already too close to Lessa's body. Lent could only watch as she landed a furious kick on Izael's chest. Izael screamed. He felt his ribs break. He flew through the air and landed on his side, his left hand breaking with a snap. Izael felt it was hard to breathe. One of his bones had obviously pierced his lung. He could not heal himself before that bone was removed. Lessa walked closer and smiled, then she kicked Izael again. Luckily, the pain was too great to bear, and Izael blacked out.

Novanus burst through the trees atop Seth. He focused all his will on locking onto the movements of Lessa's body. He couldn't risk a direct assault on the Nerayan, but he could disable its host, he hoped. The thing that was Lessa turned, her eyes showing pure hatred for Novanus. Novanus had never thought he would ever see her direct that look at him. Lessa's body hissed, jumping towards him only to meet a crushing blow from Lent's fist part way through the air.   
Novanus began to feel the strain upon his mind. He just couldn't break through the Nerayan's power upon the body. He scanned the barrier protecting Lessa's body. He could find nothing. No weakness of any kind. Nothing. Novanus was about to give up when he noticed the smallest chink in the shield. 'Thank you, Lessa,' Novanus thought to himself. He didn't know if the gap was big enough for him to be able to affect Lessa's body, but he was going to try. Novanus forced the mental impulse which locked a being's muscles through the chink and Lessa fell to the floor, rigid. Novanus looked at the wounds on Lessa's body. They were deep, but already her fast healing abilities had begun to work. With his eyes, Novanus began to see the flesh slowly begin to knit back together. He picked her up and laid her over Seth's saddle. He looked into her eyes. No longer did he see the hatred; instead, the eyes were filled with total fear. The Nerayan had abandoned Lessa. _Soon Novanus... Soon your will shall crumble, and you shall be ours_.

Novanus held his right arm as searing pain flooded through it. He forced the pain to the back of his mind and turned to Lent and Izael. He crouched over Izael and began uttering a spell of the Ancients. With a sickening crack, Izael's ribs moved back to their original position. He was healed but asleep. Novanus turned to Lent, picked up Izael, and smiled as he walked back to Seth. He began walking the horse back to the others but before he left the clearing he turned to look at Lent, beckoning him to follow. He then pushed on into the dense green undergrowth of the forest.

Night fell quickly and Kour worried they might not reach the entrance in time. To his relief, up ahead and emanating a warm orange light, the entrance sat in utter contrast to the icy blue coolness of the mountain exterior. The cave walls were smooth and warm, the air humid and stale. With a nod, Kour motioned to Orugarde and the two began their way down into the winding depths of the dimly lit Grotto.  
The path grew steep and narrow, forcing the two to descend single file for a time. Eventually the way widened and leveled off into an underground sea of liquid molten lava, explaining the intense heat they had felt on the way down. Carefully making their way around the rim, Kour thought the lava pool more resembled hot blood than molten rock. To the right, the path widened into a small chamber where a figure, seated with back turned, stirred a large, dark metal pot over a wood fire. Kour's arm held Orugarde back and the two stood in silence, mesmerized at the silent movements of the creature in front of them.

Jessie walked through the forest slowly with Admar and Abel. Moments ago, Novanus had felt the extreme necessity to reach Lessa quickly, so he and Seth had set off to scout out up ahead while the others continued slowly on foot. Jessie wondered how Novanus was doing against a Nerayan-possessed Lessa. Jessie also wondered where Izael and Gadorian had gone. 'They are probably up ahead, fighting against Lessa's body,' Jessie concluded.  
After a short while, Admar decided to break the silence with a question that had been nagging at him since Jessie's reappearance. "So, what's it like? Dying, I mean losing a form, or whatever just happened to you?" Jessie considered the question carefully, then said, "Well, for real or not, no one likes dying, and I'm no exception. However, it's not really that painful. It's more like a sadness, a sense of loss and emptiness. Then the Elder God draws me into his lair and I have to escape in order to regain a material form." Abel listened to this exchange, curious to hear Jessie speaking so openly about it. He wondered out loud, "How did you escape this time?" Jessie replied, "I didn't. Not really. The Elder God let me go because if the Nerayan break through, he will slowly starve to death. He knew I would fight against the Nerayan, thereby serving his ends, but I don't care. At least I didn't slip and tell him how I regenerate energy without consuming souls. With that information, I don't even want to know what the Elder God would become."  
Admar astutely asked, "But doesn't your sword absorb energy for you?" Seeing a look of amusement on Jessie's face, Admar continued, "I mean, that's what Izael told me you said." Jessie replied, "Yes, I did say that. But the sword is only part of it. Now, where are the others?" Jessie had the desire to terminate the conversation in case they were being spied upon. The abilities of her sword were basically common knowledge to all who knew her, but she couldn't risk revealing some more sensitive information.  
A sudden loud sound just up ahead caused them all to freeze in place, tensely waiting to discover who would come out of the dense undergrowth before them.

Gadorian sat atop the hill, watching the sunlight reflect off the lightly falling snowflakes. Everyone around him was falling victim to the Nerayan. He and Izael alone, as wards of the sword, had any real resistance against it. And yet Izael was a human, and thus had other weaknesses. Gadorian could only watch his friends wrestle with these demons, oblivious to the torment they faced within their own minds. By his very nature as part of the weapon to fight the Nerayan, he could not fully comprehend the suffering they inflicted on their victims. He could only watch, but for how much longer? Their only victories had been reclaiming what was rightfully theirs, they had caused no damage to the evil threatening Nosgoth. This charade was useless, it could not go on any longer. The time had finally come. The beginning of the end.  
Soon, perhaps less so than he thought, Gadorian and Izael would have to travel the Path. He cringed at the very thought. He had traveled at least once before, but he had long repressed the terrible memories. Novanus would have to lead them to the shrine, and the group would be able to aid them in the Trials, but only the brothers of the sword would be allowed to walk the Path. He and Izael could enter, but each would have to face his journey alone. A tiny dimension created specifically for the traveler, knowing his strengths and weaknesses, and testing them all along the way. No two paths had ever, or would ever be the same, for no two souls can ever be identical. All of this to ensure the absolute purity of the seal. The way would be long and arduous, and perhaps neither of them would return, but if they succeeded, the scourge that was Nerayan would again be safely locked away. But what would happen to lady Nosgoth, her people, and Gadorian's friends while he pressed on through his own personal hell? If he never returned, he would never know. Thus, if he should lose his life in the coming battle, he might as well get to know those he would be leaving behind. Gadorian walked down the hill back towards his friends as the last rays of sunlight shimmered along his path


	26. Chapter 26

Battle in the Forest

Abel was one of the first of the trio to freeze, his wings raising up instinctively, remaining folded yet ready to unfurl to shield their owner. "Footsteps... three pairs, two of them male," he whispered, already able to distinguish who or what was ahead, even gender. But location… "There are more.. but.." "But?" Jessie whispered just a bit harshly as she assumed a ready position, "But what?" "I can't hear them, I can't tell where the rest a..." The kindred's words were cut short as the sound of a cross-bow catch release reached his tipped ears, snapping a wing out before him as he shielded himself with his arms. The bolt came to an abrupt stop in the feathered flesh near the top joint. The wince that came after bought the hidden snipers enough time to aim and focus a long arrow to go unheard. With a sickening 'thock' the composite bow's arrow pierced through the long pin feathers and into his lower chest. Though the miscalculation missed his heart completely it was enough to drop him.  
Before Jessie or Admar could turn back and react, the gargled battle cry of the possessed warriors echoed among the trees as they erupted from the dense thicket. The empty eye sockets of the animated corpses flared with a fiery green light as four descended upon the trio with scimitars drawn, a hail of repeating cross-bow bolts following in their haphazard wake. Admar ducked down behind a fallen tree trunk. He looked across to see Abel lying on the floor with two crossbow bolts sticking into him. Jessie was sitting behind the stump of a dead tree. Admar called out, "Who are they?"  
"Berathia!" Jessie shouted back. Another crossbow bolt sailed through the air and landed with a clunk in the stump protecting Jessie.  
Admar risked a glance into the dark shadow-shrouded woods ahead of him. The four warriors with flaming eyes were moments away. He reached a tentative arm out and grabbed the fallen form of the blind vampire. With all of his strength he pulled the limp form behind the fallen tree. Then with a laugh he drew one of his throwing knives and threw it straight at one of the approaching figures. It sunk up to its hilt into his chest, but the green, flame eyed warrior continued his approach. Jessie called out to him, "You can't kill this kind of being that way. They..." Another crossbow bolt sunk into the trunk of the tree protecting Jessie. "You have to decapitate them!" "What!" exclaimed Admar.  
"You heard me," Jessie grimly responded.

In the forest, Novanus approached the area where Jessie and Admar were being attacked. Novanus led Seth forwards, but at a slower pace after hearing the commotion up ahead. Sitting in the green ferns up ahead were two beings both crouched down shooting crossbow bolts. "Having problems, gentlemen?" he said to them. Both figures turned and aimed their crossbows at him. With a click both bolts sped through the air. With a deft flick of his arm, he caught both bolts. The eyes flamed even fiercer as he hurled the bolts back at the two shooters. Both hit their targets, and both had no effect. Novanus knew this type of being but he couldn't remember how to kill them. He grabbed Lessa's flame blade from her side and prepared to face the two. 

"The crossbows have stopped firing," called Admar. This was what the pair had been waiting for. They both leapt from behind their positions and ran towards the four flame-eyed warriors, Jessie with her wraithen blade and Admar with his double-bladed staff. As he ran, he flicked the tiny mechanism which extended the two long blades from their positions at either end of the hilt. With a spin Admar decapitated the first warrior and blocked an attack from the other. The last warrior began a dizzying whirl of attacks. Admar blocked hit after hit but he began to feel his strength fading. The mistake was a simple one. Just as Admar raised his weapon to decapitate the warrior, he left his midriff undefended. The flame eyed warrior thrust his scimitar into Admar even as his head was severed from his body. Both fell to the floor. Jessie ran over her fallen comrade. Admar smiled at her, "Don't worry lass, it's not that bad, just a little uncomfortable, that's all." He laughed, coughing up blood. The crimson liquid spilled out of his cheek and hit the forest floor

Novanus squared himself against the two warriors. "Berathian," that was what these creatures were. Undead warriors with only one purpose, to follow the direct orders of their master. Decapitation was the only means by which they could be felled. Novanus feinted to his left but came through on the right, slicing through bone and sinew. The head of the first warrior rolled to the floor. Wasting no time, Novanus spun round and decapitated the last warrior. He walked back to Seth, calmly picked up the reigns and walked on through the forest.  
Ahead he could see the form of Jessie. She was kneeling on the floor over the form of…..of Admar. Novanus ran forward. He fell to his knees next to his old friend.   
"I'm sorry, my lord," Admar wheezed. "I seem to have had a little accident." Admar laughed, more blood spilling from his mouth, and then a look of severe pain crossed his face. "Admar, Admar I'm here. It's alright, we'll get you back to the others. You'll be fine." "Don't fool yourself, my lord. I know how bad this injury is." "I can save you, Admar. Just a small amount of blood and you will be healed." Admar smiled at his lord.  
"No, Novanus, I've had my time. I'm old and now I have to move on." "No, Admar, I won't let you!" Blood tears began to fall from Novanus' eyes. "You are mine; I decide when you can leave me." "You forget, my lord…" Admar's breathing was labored and his voice almost a whisper, "you set me free. Please, I ask you," Admar coughed more blood, "set me free again now." Novanus looked into the eyes of his old friend. He was tired, old, and now he wanted to leave. Who was Novanus to deny him his final request?  
"Go my old, dear friend. Go in peace." Admar smiled once more. He raised his eyes to the sky.  
Novanus gently closed his friend's eye lids. Blood tears fell freely from his own eyes. In rage he howled into the sky a cry of pure pain and suffering. He then picked up his dearest friend and walked into the forest. A few seconds later, Jessie followed, her head hung low with tears in her eyes also, her hand clasping the reigns of Seth's bridal.

Izael was standing on a platform above a whirling maelstrom of colors. Wherever he looked, he saw only an endless swirl of shifting mass that looked like clouds. Suddenly he sensed someone else was here too. Izael looked to see the Sarafan Lord stand in front of him. "Ah, my wayward son. I see you have learned parts of your true destiny. However, you do not know the whole truth. Return to the Keep and pledge to join me again, and thou shall hear...everything. These vampires are evil, and have used you as pawns from the beginning. Come, I will forgive you." "No. It is you who tries to use me as a pawn. Your kind tries to drive vampires and humans into war! I will never join you!" "My son, I see now they have clouded your mind with hollow promises. You seek to revive Kain, but know this: he was a cruel warlord that doomed this world to its corruption. He is not your savior. No...he is the one who caused this whole...war between our kind. I see from your eyes that you do not believe me. Well, ask your parasite friends, then. If they have the guts to answer you honestly..." Then a world of pain hit him, and Izael awoke from his dream. It was easier to breathe. He had been healed. Izael looked around. He was lying on a...he was riding in the middle of a battle. With a groan Izael started to mutter words of healing to ease his pain. He needed to stay awake long enough to protect himself.

Jessie wordlessly led Seth over to Abel's unconscious form. Aided by a small degree of telekinesis, Jessie lifted Abel up onto Seth's back, then continued leading Seth and following Novanus. Jessie couldn't believe what had just happened. It didn't seem real to her. Moments before the battle, she and Admar had been talking and it was like nothing bad could happen. But now,... Jessie wondered why Admar had chosen to "be free," but in truth Jessie understood the feeling perfectly.  
Those Berathia, judging from their energy signatures, seemed to be sent by the Elder God. Why would he send them now when Jessie and her friends were still useful to fight the Nerayan? Had he discovered something that suddenly made Jessie obsolete? Jessie pondered this over, trying to make sense of it, as her body mechanically walked through the forest. There was something sinister here, lying under the surface of everything, and Jessie was determined to discover what it was.

The cave was dim but Kour was still able to see Orugarde and motioned him to take the right, he'd take the left. As they took a step closer, the creature stopped, recoiled its arms inward, and recited the sounds, "Ahma Hna Tah!" A force formed around the creature and with a burst of its arms outward, blew the two men off their feet, high into the air and onto the walls of the ante-chamber. The creature, barely keeping her balance, wobbled over to the two immobilized men, laughing her head off. "Oh, that was too easy!" She was barely able to eek out the words before she burst out laughing again as she looked at the two stuck on the wall, midway between the floor and ceiling. Kour squirmed in a futile effort to free himself, feeling very foolish at the manner in which they were incarcerated.  
"Oh… by the way, the beauty of this spell is that the more you struggle, the tighter the hold gets! So be my guest! Squirm all you want! You make my job much easier that way. And besides, it will be a nice change to have fresh meat in my stew."

Abel began to stir, grimacing as he found himself laying length wise on the back of a horse, Jessie walking beside and what sounded like Novanus not too far ahead. Oh, what had he gotten these poor people into? He touched the already broken shaft that remained where it had been shot, sucking in his breath with a hiss and deciding that it was far too tender to remove just now. Perhaps they would do it when he slipped out of consciousness again; he was never one for pain. "I'm sorry, Jessie, Novanus," he said to her, trying not to take in such deep breaths to speak, "I didn't think He knew I had linked you two before." Jessie just waved her hand in a 'never mind' gesture. She knew who "He" was and she already had plenty of things to say about that squid, but she was in no mood to bad mouth just yet. "You couldn't have known..."  
Abel lay his head back against the arched neck of the animal and closed his eyes. How was he going to explain what was going to come next, if anything came at all? However, Jessie probably knew, but it wasn't likely she remembered. As for Novanus and Gadorian? They had enough to deal with as it was. Letting out a short sigh, he let his body relax. He would think of something while he slept. It was more comforting there.

The group continued for awhile, deep into the forest, until they came to a cave. Novanus led them inside. They all set themselves at the mouth of the cave. Novanus waited just long enough to see them settled and walked deeper into the cave, carrying the body of his friend.


	27. Chapter 27

Loss

Lessa woke to the feeling of sorrow. She sat up. Abel was asleep on the floor of what appeared to be a cave. She could sense Jessie outside the cave. The sorrow was coming from further inside the cave. Lessa rose quietly and walked to the rear of the cave. What greeted her made her heart ache. There in the center, on a stone, lay a still Admar. Even from here she could tell he was dead. Next to it sat Novanus, and the floor in front of him was slick with his blood tears. She walked up to him and hugged him.  
"Oh, Novanus, I'm sorry," Lessa said in a whisper. Lessa sat down at his side facing him. She lay a hand on his arm, at which he winced. "Novanus, what's wrong with your arm?" Lessa drew back the sleeve before he could protest. Lessa sighed. "They touched you, didn't they?" "How did you know?" "Because they touched me, too, but with my blood the wound healed long ago. The chains that bind…" "What?" Novanus asked, looking at her. She explained, "Oh, it's nothing. They bound me with chains in my mind." Lessa slit her wrist and offered it to Novanus. "Go on, drink. It will take the pain from your arm, and you need blood, my friend." Novanus looked at her and saw that she would not take a 'no' and, in truth, he did feel weak. He had not slept in case the Nerayan tried to take him over again. He took her wrist and drank deeply. He could feel it flow through him quickly. The pain in his arm began to subside, then it finally went away completely. He continued to drink and Lessa made no protest. He stopped finally and she withdrew her hand. Already the wound began to knit closed. Lessa put her arm around him and just held him. He was still weary.  
"Sleep, Novanus," Lessa said to him. "But I can not. The Nerayan will try to take me," he replied, but his eyes were so heavy. "They will not get you. I will sing the song that kept me sane. It does not work so well if they are already in your mind, but if they are not, then it creates a barrier of light in your mind," Lessa replied.  
Lessa began the song. It was a quiet song with a sweet melody. Novanus had heard it long ago. It was a song of the Ancients. Novanus drifted off to sleep. In his mind, in the astral plane, he could see the Pillars and the black cloud beyond. In front of the cloud was a shimmering barrier, all colors and light. The Nerayan could not get through. He could still hear Lessa. His astral self lay down to rest. He knew he was safe and he thanked Lessa for the rest she gave him.  
Lessa sang the song quietly while Novanus had gone to a deep restful sleep. She looked to the body of Admar and wished him well. In her hand she created a ball of green flame, the Ignis Fatuus. She sent it at Admar's body and instantly it began to burn, but no smell of smoke came from it. Soon he had turned to ash. Now he would not be raised like those that had killed him. Lessa lay back, holding Novanus, and continued to sing.

Gadorian walked back to the clearing where his friends had earlier been. Signs of a terrible struggle were left. Blood and bodies littered the field. Gadorian ran his fingers over a deep impression in the bloodstained snow. The pain of death stung through his hand and up into his heart. The death was fresh. Sensing the other vampires, Gadorian eventually made his way to the cave where the group had assembled. As he went further, the light failed to make its way all the way to him, yet he did not adjust his eyes for the dark. He was afraid to see the condition the group was in, ashamed.  
Upon finding Lessa, Gadorian was told the whole story. The violence, the struggle, the death of Admar. Yet again, he was absent at a most crucial time. Yet again, he had failed the humans he was created to protect. He would redeem himself. "It's time. The fated hour approaches, and if we do not rise to meet it, we shall be swallowed in the coming tide of misery. The seal must be renewed, and the Nerayan banished. We will go north...to Dark Eden."  
No being, living or undead, had returned from Dark Eden long enough to tell of its horrors since the Pillars' corruption. The few who made it out of those scorched fields soon fell victim to disease or madness, and the most unfortunate found themselves mutated into horrific monstrosities. The land and its inhabitants were the closest thing the Nerayan had to a physical body in Nosgoth, and they were to plunge willingly towards its dark, throbbing heart.  
Novanus would have to lead them through the labyrinth deep inside the blackened earth, until finally the Sword and its guardians would face their destiny. Then the real fight would begin. While Gadorian and Izael would take their separate Paths to end this madness once and for all, those left outside would face the greatest battle they had ever, or would ever, know. The Nerayan, knowing their time was running out, would fight with the ferocity of a cornered animal. If the others could not hold them off long enough, Gadorian and Izael might end up saving a pitiful black shell.

Jessie stood guard near the entrance of the cave. The sense of sadness over losing Admar had been replaced by a fierce desire for vengeance. Jessie paced furiously back and forth, almost wishing for more of the Berathia to appear so that she could annihilate them. After a little while, the fury passed as well. She was left with a cold sense of purpose. She knew what had to be done and she would not waver. Gadorian came out of the cave to see how she was doing. Earlier, he had been so intent on discovering who had died that he hadn't even noticed her. One look at his face and Jessie knew what he was planning. "Dark Eden?" she asked. Gadorian merely nodded. Jessie said to him with grim determination, "We will not fail. We can't fail. I won't allow it." Gadorian smiled at her determination. He hoped she had the power to back up her words.

"Please don't go, who will I talk to?" "I will see you again, little Brother..."  
"Promise...?" "I promise." The visage of the teary-eyed, black-haired boy dissipated in a flurry of black feathers, the calling of ravens piercing through the echoing sobs of the disappearing youth. "DON'T LEAVE ME!" …

Abel snapped awake with a startled shout that ricocheted off of the walls, raking his claws along the cold floor of the cave where he had been placed, gripping the ground and staring up with widened eyes in the sudden fear. Why the ravens, why the omen of death and his brother's tears? The kindred closed his eyes, trying to calm his heaving, and still stinging, breath. There was something dreadfully wrong. He had to find his brother...soon.

Novanus awoke from his slumber to find Lessa still gently singing her ancient lullaby, although her eyes were beginning to hang heavy. "Rest Lessa, rest." The female vampire smiled, and gently drifted off to sleep. He sat up and stared around the cave he was in. Its walls emitted an eerie glow which suffused everything within with a cold blue light. Something was missing. He couldn't quite place it. His eyes searched every nook and cranny of the cave until they fell upon the bier which had supported Admar's lifeless body. He was gone, his dark ashes the only trace that he had ever been there. Lessa had incinerated his body. Only safe to do so with the threat of the Nerayan hanging over their heads, but none-the-less, Novanus felt a pang of guilt and anger that he had not witnessed the event.  
The cloven footed vampire walked over to the bier and scooped up what he could of Admar's ashes. He then proceeded outside, walking past the slumbering forms of Gadorian, Jessie, Izael and Abel. With out a sound, Novanus levitated slowly to the top of the cliff into which the cave was set. His mind was still terribly weak from his encounter with the Nerayan, although he would never have admitted it to any of the others. When he reached the peak, he turned to face the spreading landscaped. Cupping Admar's ashes in his hands he gently lifted them to his face and blew them into the air. He called quietly to the dissipating ashes, "Goodbye my dear, dear friend. May you find more peace now than you ever did in life." Novanus turned to descend the rock face and although it may only have been the wind whistling past his ears, Novanus could have sworn that he heard Admar's voice whisper, "Goodbye, my Lord."

Izael opened his eyes. Obviously he had slept without intending it. He looked around. He was in a small cave. Everyone but Novanus and Admar were there too, looking quite sad and exhausted. Izael tried to rise, but fell back to the floor. Obviously his leg had been broken, too, and was not yet fully healed. He looked around and saw Lessa. She was asleep, but looked calm. Had the Nerayan curse left her body? Izael couldn't tell. He crawled to the back of the cave, so that he could lean against the cave wall. He whispered to Gadorian, who seemed to be the only one not sleeping besides Abel and Jessie, but Izael didn't know these newcomers well enough, and felt like he had nothing to say to them. "Gad? Gad! What's going on?"  
Gadorian walked over to Izael, looking quite relieved to see he was ok. The vampire searched Admar's backpack for a while, and then took out a small package from there and threw it to Izael. "There, Admar's food rations. He won't be needing them anymore, and I don't think Novanus will mind." "What do you mean?" Gadorian sat next to Izael and explained what had happened. Izael felt empty. It was sad that Admar had to die, but Izael never had the chance to befriend the old trader and thus was unable to mourn him. After he had eaten, Izael used his healing magic and soon felt ready to take on anything. Seeing Izael's new strength and determination, Gadorian started walking towards the entrance to the cave, gesturing for Izael to follow. "Come, there are a few things you must learn. Dark times are ahead of us, and you must be made ready for your greatest test."

Lent sat alone in the corner. He had kept quiet to himself for awhile now, conserving his energy for the trials ahead. He took this moment to sharpen his axes. It was the sense of dread that compelled him to do so. The warrior's sense, an instinct that predators have, that a hunt is coming; and Lent knew, with a certainty that he couldn't explain, that this party was the one being hunted. A pair of boots stepped in front of him, and Lent looked up to see Izael's form. "Sit, savior." Izael sat down, "Don't call me that, I hate that. Saint Lent." "We all hate the titles we are given." "Do you trust me?" Izael asked. "Yes, blindly I trust you. We're forced to trust one another because if we don't we're all sure to fall." "Why didn't you tell me Kain was in the temple before?" "It wasn't important. Kain is not your ally. Although your heritage lies in vampire roots, Kain is... divine." "Divine? I thought all vampires were gods in your eyes." "Of course not. With the exception of the ancients, vampires were once human. Kain is different." "How?" "Izael, beings are attacking our very minds, and you're asking me about my faith? Why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?" "The Sarafan Lord visited my dreams. He said the vampires weren't my savior." "They're not." Izael looked at him. "You are our savior now, Izael," Lent said, smiling. Izael asked, "And Kain?" "Kain is my god. You can believe whatever you wish about him." "Did he doom the world?" "Of course not, it was already doomed. He will save it, but you and I will not live to see that day. Let us hope we can live to see a day with out these Nerayan."  
Izael shook Lent's hand and made his way back to Gadorian. Lent could tell that Izael had strong feelings for him, almost like he was his vampire father. Who could blame him? Lent managed to smile to himself, but then felt Jessie's cold eyes upon him.  
He had seen her with them for awhile now, but didn't bother to question or speak to her. She didn't smell human, and clearly not vampiric. If he had to guess, she was not of this world. Her eyes didn't leave him, and she was probably curious as to what he was doing here. "Whatever," Lent thought, "She's not my concern." Lent continued to sharpen his axes, preparing for the upcoming battle ahead.

"My apologies, Deva. We mean no disrespect." Kour's words were sincere, even if he was a little more than upset at being "caught off guard" and in such a way as this. If the two of them ever got out of here, he would never hear the end of it.

Deva? The creature hadn't heard that name in a long time. She walked closer to Kour, her face a little more serious and her steps more cautious. "Enough pleasantries. Now… who you are and why are you here?" "I am Kour, Chief Guardian to the Priestess Amar and this is my apprentice, Orugarde. We seek your assistance. It is our understanding that you have been to the lower realm, the Nerayan." "And?…" "You escaped?" "Not exactly… but I suppose you could call it that. To put it in terms you would understand, I guess you could say I died. And then I came here. No different than anything any of you have not already experienced."  
"I don't understand." "Of course you don't. That's because you don't remember. Unfortunately, I do. I remember everything. Every existence I've ever had, every face I've ever loved. I've seen the universes implode and renew, over time spans inconceivable to the small human mind…an eternity." "In all that you've seen, have the realms ever merged?" The Deva now frowned. "That would be an impossibility. They are different existences. They cannot merge." "Then we will need your assistance, Deva. Because the impossible has come true." The Deva raised her hand and released the two from their captive states. "Come with me. There are a few advantages to remembering past lives."


	28. Chapter 28

Final Preparations Before Departure

Abel sat up, rubbing his brow with the heels of his cloven hands. The dream had left him a terrific headache. He needed to speak with someone, someone he could trust in not repeating his words. Gadorian? 'No,' he thought as he folded his arms loosely in his lap, he wasn't able to answer his questions before. Jessie...well, not just yet...   
Lent, he could speak with Lent. He raised his head, the long locks of raven hair sweeping past his grayish pale visage as he listened to the echoes in the cave. Footsteps, sharpening metal, voices that were not Lent's. He knew the footfalls, those were Izael's, so then the sharpening sounds were his only other option; he could hear nothing else.  
Taking up his staff and having the wall lead him, Abel made his way toward the metal scrapes. "Lent... is that you?" "Yes, it is," he answered simply, glancing up for a moment to see who approached. Abel sat himself down before him, this was a tad too important to use time up even to ask permission. "I need to talk to you... it is about Kain..." Lent stopped sharpening his axe, and looked at Abel for a little while before answering.

"What about Kain?" Lent said with a hint of skepticism. He was very protective of his fallen god, and with good reason. There were those whose sole purpose was to find him and destroy him. Abel began to speak, but Lent grabbed the vampire's hand. "No, not here," Lent said. "Someone might listen. Follow me." The pair made their way deeper into the cave. Sounds of bats hanging on the stalactites echoed through the cavern. "I can't promise to answer all of your questions about him - my first responsibility is to protect my god. It is important that whatever we discuss remains between us, and never to be repeated out loud or in thought."

Gadorian led Izael outside, again nodding at Jessie as they passed. The two walked through the woods for some time, as Gadorian explained to Izael the trials that lay ahead. Finally, they found a spot where the setting sun had left a viridian hole in which they sat down. "So...we go to Dark Eden, and into the shrine, and then what? I still don't understand." "I don't know, Izael. The Path will be made for you, and no one else. I cannot tell you what you will face, only that you must be prepared to see the darkness of your soul manifest as tests greater than any you have ever faced before. When you reach the end, when we meet, you will be truly pure. We will repair the Seal." "You said you've done it before, yes? How exactly do we repair the Seal?" Gadorian lowered his head. "I...don't..remember."

Jessie stood silently against the wall, watching everyone else go about preparing for the journey ahead. She felt a pang of remorse when Abel chose to confide in someone else, but she pushed it aside when she considered what she had put him through with the HeartStone. He would talk to her when he was ready to, and she would be glad to listen.   
The dull, constricted feeling in the back of Jessie's mind suddenly increased in intensity, gaining razor-sharp clarity. For a moment, Jessie could hear the thoughts of the Nerayan in her own mind. Their whispered message tried to entice Jessie into joining them. They hinted at power, energy, and anything a wraith could want. 'Anything except friends,' thought Jessie fiercely as she pushed the invading presence out of her mind. She would not allow herself to fall prey to their illusions. She knew what life would be like if she joined them, she knew what would happen to her friends, and she knew what she had to do. For now, though, she just waited patiently for her friends to set things in motion. She would help them when they needed it, but until then she had to remain in control of herself.

"And that is why I chose to speak with you..." Abel trailed off for a brief moment, though for himself it seemed like he fell silent for eternity. Was this truly a wise choice? He couldn't possibly find him on his own, he could barely be on his own to begin with. He continued, "I understand that you wish to protect your god, but it is also my responsibility to protect my brother. Whatever you can tell me would help me greatly in getting back to him." It was then that the resemblance became obvious, from the facial structure to the peaked hairline to the gold filmed eyes. He looked, however, shorter and frailer, like a raven haired Kain.  
But the test came next as Abel fell silent once more in case Lent's reaction would interrupt. Would he believe him, or would it be too farfetched, or even wild, for him to buy? The current events didn't quite weigh in the blind vampire's favor either.

Novanus sat atop the rock face, his arms folded deep in meditation. He needed to restore his strength. He had found it incredibly difficult to even perform menial tasks with his mental abilities, now he was rapidly regaining his strength as his mind recovered from its encounter with the Nerayan. The vampire sat in silence, his mind a whirl of images that he needed to un-jumble.  
A few hours later, Novanus moved for the first time, his eyes snapping open. He felt like himself once more, although changed. The purpose of the group's mission had always been a prevalent motivational force for Novanus, but now it dominated his thoughts. He and the others had a task to perform

Thoughts raced through Izael's mind. They had to repair the Seal so that the Nerayan couldn't enter this realm, but they knew not how. "Then, perhaps, we should search for this information before rushing into things?" he asked. Gadorian shook his head, "No, there is to time for that. I can only pray that I will remember things once I am at the Seal again." Izael nodded. "Well, then, when shall we move out? I feel I am ready. Now with all what you've told me, I think I can face the Dark Eden and its horrors."

Jessie was standing by the entrance to the cave when Gadorian and Izael came back. Izael had a fierce, determined look on his face that could only mean Gadorian had told him about Dark Eden. Jessie hoped Izael's bravery would get him through everything unharmed.  
The Nerayan had given up on Novanus for the moment because Lessa knew how to ward them off. This was good, but it meant that they now were focusing their full attention on Jessie. Jessie wanted it that way. She knew she was strong enough to withstand them and she did not want her friends to become possessed. Lessa had barely survived it herself, and the others did not have Lessa's strong regenerative abilities.   
The Nerayan were now constantly bombarding Jessie with pleas, promises, and waves of emotion that she knew weren't hers. She had become quite skilled at drowning out emotions over the years, so she blocked these without much effort. The Nerayan were, for now, nothing more than an annoying, whining voice she had to ignore. However, she knew that as she neared Dark Eden she would be traveling closer to them and the voice would grow stronger. She absent-mindedly cradled her wrists in her hands, running her fingers over the concealed daggers, as her friends gathered in the cave entrance to begin the journey.

The Deva led the trio out of the small anti-chamber into the vast space housing the crimson pool Kour had first encountered on his way in. The air, hot and languid, rose as steam formed on the surface, distorting the view across the liquid filled chasm. The grotto walls seemed to undulate in this less than hospitable environment.  
As three made their way around the edge, the Deva stopped short of the end and turned facing the lake. Bent in a posture now familiar, the creature raised her head, arms forward, and called out, "Eti Ahn Ma Tana!" The surface began to bubble. The once sickening thick liquid now glittered like a prism of fragmented light. The liquid slowly dissolved into the air, sparkling like a thousand shattered rubies and revealing a rock-encrusted path below. "This way," the Deva motioned to the two visitors, and the trio continued their way down into the depths of the grotto.

Lessa awoke and rose to the mouth of the cave. There she saw Gadorian and Izael returning to the group. From the determined look on both of their faces, finally the end was near. "So we have a destination, by the look of you, Gad. Where do we head?" she asked as they sat. "We go to Dark Eden. There Izael and I must gain entry to the trials, while to you, my friends, falls the task of guarding our backs." Gadorian spoke to them all in a strong but sad tone.   
Lessa knew from his tone that those guarding the back would have the hardest task. The Nerayan were at their strongest there. She could slow them with the song but it would not take them long to figure out it was her singing it, and all would head for her. That did not scare her, but she must sing the song flawlessly for it to work. Singing in a cave to protect someone while they slept was one thing, in a middle of a battle another.  
No matter, she would do what she must, but something came to her that made her gasp. The others looked at her, thinking she had been taken over, but in truth she now knew why they had bound her. They could not touch her. She burned them as much as they did her, but they had torn from her mind in that touch the location of the blade that was brother to the Reaver...the vampires' bane...Vukodlak.  
The blade was made by those that were banished by the vampires. If the blade was to cut a vampire, it would taint the vampire's blood. There was no cure; they would not need one, for it would only change vampire blood. The vampire would die, its blood turning black slowly. Even if the vampire was to drink another vampire's blood, it would not help. It was a painful death. The blade had been entombed in Dark Eden, and now, thanks to her, the Nerayan knew exactly where to find it.

Lent stood up with out saying anything. "Where are you going?" Abel asked him. Lent tersely answered, "Away, I will not listen to this." "You must believe me." "I must do nothing. And I see no reason to tell you anything. All you need to know is that he is alive. And if you stay alive long enough, you are sure to meet him. Then we will see if there is truth to your story."  
Lent left Abel in the dark. Abel hadn't really asked him a specific question at all, he just asked him to tell all he knew about Kain. Lent wasn't the type of person to speak just to hear himself talk, especially about Kain. He might be a vampire worshipper, but in his eyes Kain was his only god. In his heart, Lent didn't believe Abel at all. Sure, he resembled Kain somewhat, but Kain had been prophesied for eons, and his name was already legend. Finding an icon of him wasn't impossible, and magic could easily be used to give the guise of someone else. Lent also knew that this vampire was far older than Kain; his wings attested to that fact. Lent wondered if Abel really was a vampire, for Lent never recalled seeing him drink.  
Lent regrouped with the others. Whatever was to come for the future, Lent would make sure he kept his distance from Abel. Lent wondered what his real motivation was behind his dire search for Kain. Lent knelt down to his bag and began to rummage through it. He heard footsteps behind him and knew it was Jessie. Lent had felt her eyes upon him for quite some time, and whenever he looked at her he had a strange feeling of deja-vu. There was something nostalgic and almost familiar to her. "Are you going to just sneak behind me all day?" Lent asked.

Able let Lent leave, hanging his head with a sigh. He knew this was going to be difficult, but at least he knew now that Kain was alive. But how much longer was this going to take now that he just burned a helpful bridge? He wiped away the crimson tear roughly, putting a bloodless cut across his cheek. If he wasn't going to be taken seriously, then fine. Abel would deal with Lent another time, without the others around. Until then he would just keep his business to himself unless Jessie knew anything, but he was still unsure about her. He would just have to trust time. The kindred stood with his staff and headed out into the forest, passing the companions who had gathered. "A-Abel where are yo..." Gadorian began. "Ahead," he interrupted, stepping over the flattened thicket, "I need to think. I will..." Abel stopped, catching himself after he tripped. "I will catch up with you later." It wasn't long before he was just a feathered figure in the far off trees.

Jessie tilted her head slightly to the side while considering Lent's question. In truth, she had only been curious, but Lent made it sound like she had some devious motive for spying on him. She said, "Abel was telling the truth. He was Kain's older brother in their human life. He became a vampire when he was young, though, and he possesses an unusual degree of power. That is why he evolved so quickly."   
Lent laughed at this, surprised that Jessie would so quickly come to Abel's defense. "So, what would you have me do? Reveal Kain's location to any strange vampire who comes along claiming he's related?" "No," Jessie said quietly. "You should keep that information secret. But you could have been nicer about it." With that, Jessie walked outside to rejoin the others. She heard Lent's footsteps as he followed suit, but she was paying attention to Abel as he walked off through the forest. She hesitated. She wanted to follow after Abel and talk with him, but he might just need some time alone.

Novanus watched Abel disappear into the trees, his feathered wings fading slowly into the gloom of night. Since his past dealings with the Nerayan, Novanus had become more reclusive, seeking solace from the reality of Admar's death on his own. He stared intently into the flames of the fire which they had built. The flames danced wildly, casting bizarre shadows across the whole camp. However, its comforting light suffused his being with a sense of warmth so that the cold wind had no effect on him. Novanus leaned back against the tree trunk which supported him. It was time for change.

Gadorian stepped up to the fire around which the group was gathered. The ground behind him quivered in an orgy of shadow and light as he spoke. "There is nothing left for us here. We must leave tonight." Jessie looked up at him with an injured look in her eyes, "And Abel?" "He's fully capable of catching up with us later. He can find us with the whisper, and it's about time he learned to use his wings." Jessie did not seem altogether appeased. "I...can't make you, nor anyone else, go if they do not wish so. You may stay behind with Abel, to rejoin me later if that is what you want." Gadorian began to walk off but stood just within the halo of warmth cast by the fire. The light still enveloped his body, just barely, but he was inches away from plunging headlong into the darkness ahead...

Jessie looked at Gadorian, outlined in the warm glow of the fire, then she looked off into the darkness where Abel had traveled. She had to make a choice now, to follow Gadorian or Abel, and she didn't know what to do. They would need her to help them fight when they got to Dark Eden, but they would need Abel as well. She didn't know if they could succeed without him. She finally decided to tap into her ability to whisper to vampires and she sent a message to Abel, "Where are you? Do you want to talk to me? We are leaving now for Dark Eden, there is no more time to waste, but we can't survive without your help. Will you come with us? Please." She wandered over to a tree just out of the fire's light and leaned against it, waiting for Abel's reply.

Nearby, Izael exclaimed, "Finally we leave! Let us make haste to the Dark Eden and end this threat once and for all!" With that, Izael stood up, took the Sword and started walking into the night. "His optimism can be sickening, can't it?" whispered Novanus to Gadorian. Gadorian shrugged, casting off the other vampire's attempt at humor. Novanus responded, "Well then, in that case it's time we finished this business, isn't it?" Novanus walked ahead of Gadorian, his red coat splaying in the wind.

Jessie decided that she couldn't afford to wait any longer. The others were already leaving, entering the darkness and ready to continue the journey. She waited until they had all left the firelight behind, then she sent one more message to Abel, "We have already begun the journey. I am going with them, but whisper me whenever you want to and I will respond." She lingered a bit, hoping for a reply, then she reluctantly moved to catch up with Novanus. Abel would come when he was ready, but until then, it would be best to let him sort himself out without interference. Dark Eden waited for them in the darkness ahead. So did the Nerayan.

As the group made their way down, Kour took a moment to look at the cave walls around them. Weaved into the rock were ribbons of red crystal, a sparkling in the dimness providing the only light source to them. Kour wondered if this was the way the world looked ages ago, before its treasures were ripped from their natural home.  
"Here we are," the Deva said as she approached the entrance with two large stone doors blocking their way. As they approached, the doors opened to reveal a vast cavern, the ceiling so high it was impossible to tell where it ended. On the walls were stores of books from history past, manuscripts long forgotten, and texts illuminated with colors that looked as if they were painted yesterday. "I hid them," she explained as she pulled one from the shelf, turned the pages, and remembered. "Every lifetime I hid one or two… in places I'd remember the next time around. Quite a collection, eh?"  
Kour looked on, speechless. He could spend a lifetime in this priceless library. As his eyes passed over ancient texts that hadn't seen the light of day for centuries, he marveled at the knowledge preserved here. One manuscript caught his eye, an image on the binding, oddly familiar. As he came closer, he recognized the symbol…the same symbol engraved on his cuff. It was the Insignia of the Order.


	29. Chapter 29

Leaving for Dark Eden

Abel looked up from the low branch he had climbed up into, hearing Jessie's voice. She hadn't left yet then. "Little One, wait," he whispered. "If you are not too far with them yet I...I would like some familiar company. Just in case..." Already he was bending, but no matter, there was much strength in numbers after all.

Jessie froze in her tracks at Abel's message. She was very happy he had replied. She sensed where he was, and it wasn't that far from where the rest of her friends were traveling. She would have gone anyway, but this would make it easier to catch up later. As she was leaving, Novanus looked at her curiously. She mouthed the word "Abel" and Novanus understood, nodding and continuing with the others. Jessie melted into the shadows and covered the ground very quickly. She could be incredibly fast when she wanted to be.  
She found herself in a very small clearing. Directly across from her, Abel was sitting on a low branch of a huge tree. She walked forward slowly and announced her presence, "Abel, I'm here." Abel jumped down from the tree branch and walked toward the sound of her voice. The very sight of the state he was in brought a tear to Jessie's eye. He didn't deserve any of this. It wasn't fair. She reached up and wiped the blood off of his cheek with the sleeve of her coat. He smiled. He seemed as if he wanted to ask something, but was reluctant to hear the answer.  
Jessie spoke, "We have to help them. The Nerayan must not be allowed entry to this realm. Kain's fate won't matter if the Nerayan have consumed everything and everyone. Right now, we need to fight for Nosgoth. We will sort everything else out later. I promise." Jessie hoped her somewhat inspirational speech would be enough to convince Abel to come with her to Dark Eden and aid Izael and Gadorian by holding off the Nerayan with her other friends.

The kindred looked downward, "Perhaps you are right, for even now I know not my purpose for awakening so soon, just that my young brother had to be found. But, if time allows, I do not want to leave just yet," he said, turning and heading back to the massive oak he had been in and placing his cloven claw upon the old and chipping bark. "I still need to cool down and think for a bit longer." Abel leaned his head against the tree, closing his useless eyes to listen to the leaves move and breathe. Parasites were already invading the ancient trunk as they burrowed through the still-living wood. It still stood strong...but for how long?

Jessie leaned back against another tree and patiently watched Abel as he calmly thought things through. There wasn't much time, but this was important. Abel needed to be fully restored and ready for the upcoming battle. If it took too much time and they wouldn't be able to catch up to Novanus' group, Jessie could always teleport them. She had a considerable reserve of energy she had been saving for something like their current situation. Abel stood near the oak tree, mentally trying to put all of the pieces into place, while Novanus and the others drew ever closer to their destination.

Kour pulled the text from the shelf and brushed off the dust. "I was told the Order did not keep written texts. How…Where did you get this one?" He had to sit down as he opened the pages. The Deva took a look at the book. "Yes. I remember. I was one of the assistants to the High Priest. He gave it to me the night before he was murdered. He told me to hide it where the others would not find it. Little did he know how good I was at hiding things." "The others?" Kour asked. "The other priests. They were burning the books … all of them. Save for this one, of course. I believe this was the only one to survive." Kour now read with a fever. Thoughts raced as he turned page after page until he came to a passage which was frighteningly familiar…"Condition #1 - The minds of Nosgoth furnish the flames that bring them..."

Izael walked ahead of the main group with Gadorian. He was testing his new abilities, focusing his mind on the Sword, and through it trying to sense anything harmful to them. He walked with his eyes closed, but the Sword didn't allow him to stumble. They were progressing slowly. The temperature had turned warmer, and now heavy rain was pouring from skies above, melting the snow. "You must learn to observe your surroundings through the sword without concentrating; sensing your enemies is no good if you cannot see them," Gadorian said. Izael tried opening his eyes, but immediately lost his concentration, and stumbled. Cursing, he stood up and tried again. With great effort, he managed to merge his mind with the Sword's, and smiled as new kind of information flowed through him. His vision sharpened. He could see perfectly in the night. Not only that, he could also sense through the sword, hearing how every living object sang and danced in silence, feeling how a squirrel drank from a small river nearby and sensing how a snake was getting ready to kill it. But, hanging above it all, was a dark presence, a silent watcher with hostile intentions. It was interested in something...important...something was going to happen, very soon...so very soon...the snake burst forward towards the surprised squirrel...a predator was striking its prey...somewhere near...Izael could sense it...a vampire! The squirrel squeaked as the snake's teeth pierced its skin. "ABEL!" Izael yelled, and started running into the night. He could only pray he would not arrive too late.

Novanus watched Izael sprint into the night and wasted no time in following. If Abel was in danger then there was no time to waste. He sent out a probing thought even as he bounded through the forest. Abel was ok and Jessie was with him, but there was something else. A malignant presence was there, closing in on his pair of friends. He sped up, his vampiric speed making him appear almost a blur as he moved. Gadorian was close behind him.  
In the distance he could see Izael. It was incredible how fast the young man was understanding how to use his sword. The mortal was moving faster then anything he had ever seen, his legs almost a blur. "And he's in full armor," thought Novanus. Incredible. Izael stopped just up ahead and Novanus came to a halt at his side, followed closely by Gadorian. The three of them looked up at the presence above Jessie and Abel. "My God!" exclaimed Novanus.

Kour closed the book in shock and disbelief and called out to the young apprentice. "Orugarde, we must leave, now." As the two made their way to the exit, Orugarde was prevented from taking another step, his feet frozen to the ground. "Not so fast, my friend," the Deva smiled in Kour's direction. "As payment for helping you, I'm claiming the young one. You are free to go. My rotting teeth could not handle your flesh, too old and tough." "Deva, you have been helpful and hospitable. I wish to strike a bargain. Release the lad and I will bring you…the Eye."  
Kour's words caught the Deva's attention and she took a moment to think. "The Eye of the Damned?" The Deva laughed at the proposition. "What makes you think you can retrieve such a prize? Legend tells of its entombment, fused in solid rock, protected by traps and spells. It is written that a shroud of noxious gas envelops it." "Leave that to me. As a Guardian of the Order, I have certain… abilities. Now, do we have an agreement?" "First, you bring me the Eye, and then I will release the boy. No harm will come to him, you have my word."   
With no choice left to him, Kour reached out his hand and placed it on the young one's shoulder. "Orugarde, I will return for you. You will not see your last breath here, this I promise you." "Yes, my Lord." And with that, Kour made his way to the exit, but not before one last word. "Deva! I warn you. You harm him, you die. This I promise you." As she watched Kour leave the grotto, under her breath she murmured, "We shall see, Guardian… we shall see."

Abel looked up to the sound of swift footfalls and the gasping voice. Immediately his expression changed to concern, but not for the hovering presence, who had taken specific precautions so as not to be sensed by his prey. "Novanus?" Abel started forward, "What is it?"  
Jessie was a little bit confused to see Novanus, Izael, and Gadorian standing in front of her looking so surprised and concerned. She wondered what had drawn such a response from them. She heard Abel ask Novanus what was wrong, but the words did not register in her mind. She was following Novanus' gaze to the trees directly above her and Abel. An amused "Oh" escaped her lips before the full realization hit her. They were in big trouble.

Izael looked at the thing, his face turning to sheer horror. He couldn't believe his eyes at first, thinking that the Sword was mistaken somehow. Only when Izael looked into the eyes of Novanus, he understood. He turned to face the figure that hovered a few meters above Abel and Jessie. It was a vampire, there was no doubt, an Ancient vampire. Its elegant, blue features and black wings radiated calmness around it, but its eyes burned with a mad gleam and fire that confirmed Izael's worst fears. The vampire had an elegant great-sword that it held high in the air, ready to swing and remove Abel's head from his shoulders. Novanus spoke in a soft voice, "This...is impossible." Abel, still unable to sense anything wrong, looked puzzled. Then the ancient vampire struck. "NO!" Suddenly Izael was there, by Abel's side, blocking the blow that could've surely ended Abel's life. The ancient vampire hissed and finally revealed itself in its full glory to everyone. Gadorian looked shocked, as did Jessie. "Heresy! Betrayal!" Novanus spat the words out and attacked. However, his attack was easily repelled, and he was thrown against a tree, which was broken by the force of the impact. The ancient vampire spoke at last, "Heresy? Betrayal? Yes, I have been accused many times. But who are you to judge me? Compared to me, you are all young and weak, allying yourself with a human and a wraith. No, it is you who are heretics to our glory! The human race has grown too strong, and we are too few. But the Nerayan can drive them almost to extinction! Then vampires will be the masters again. The ends justify the means, you fools! Can you not see that only by desperate measures are we able to survive? And now you are in the way of our plans. Turn from your mad scheme now, and you will be given mercy."  
Abel, finally understanding what was unfolding, turned to face their new enemy. "He is possessed. He has to be. There is no other explanation..." "Possessed by the Nerayan? I might be. I do not care, for we have common goals. Destruction of humans."  
"We were to protect the humans! You have turned against all the Pillars stand for. This human here is the proof. He wields a sword created by vampires," Gadorian said. The ancient retorted, "Ah yes, but humans were never meant to become so powerful. I WAS there when the Pillars were created. I should know..."  
"What do you mean?" Izael yelled, but then the ancient one attacked again.  
The ancient one was heading directly for Izael. Before Izael could even react, Jessie stepped in front of him. Her Wraithen blade met the blade of her opponent. There was a tremendous clash and magical sparks radiated outwards in all directions. Both Jessie and the ancient were thrown backwards. Izael caught Jessie before she hit the ground and helped her back to her feet. The ancient, however, needed no such help. It landed on its feet and slid back a small distance, claws digging up the earth.   
Jessie was ready for real battle now. That first blow had merely been to test what she was up against. Now that she had gauged her opponent's strength, she would not be thrown about so easily. She cast a shield of wind around herself. It would defend against the elemental magic that her opponent's sword relied upon. She saw her opponent cast a shield as well. 'Damn. This will be one hell of a challenge,' thought Jessie.  
The ancient ran toward Jessie with incredible speed. Jessie used up some energy and kept pace, dodging and blocking blows as fast as the ancient could attack. She smiled to herself, glad that when creating her new form, she had incorporated certain elements from other forms. She glided back a bit. Her sword left a green trail in the air around her as she spun around and directed the full force of her rage attack at her opponent. The ancient attempted to block the attack with its sword, but the sword was not enough and Jessie was able to open a large wound that ran diagonally down the ancient's chest and abdomen. The ancient backed up a few paces and examined the wound with one hand. The ancient studied the blood on its claws from its own wound and merely laughed.

Kour's head ached as he left the grotto. Thoughts raced through his mind faster than he could assimilate them. "A betrayal in the Order?" He could not think of that now. As he ascended the cave, he mulled over the words in the text, the purpose of which was becoming clear. Written in the book were instructions about the Nerayan.  
_Condition #1 – The minds of Nosgoth furnish the flames that bring them.   
Condition #2 - The Eye of the Damned, the clarity to focus them.   
Condition #3 – The Divine One, the power to unite them.   
_These instructions were not of how to prevent them from coming… but the conditions necessary to bring them. He knew why they were emerging now. And they were not arriving on their own…they were being invited. His task now was to deny "them" the means by which to do it. He would secure and remove from their grasp "Condition #2".

The Deva released Orugarde from her icy hold. "Hmm… that went well, did it not?" "Yes, my Lady." "But time will tell if it worked or not." The Deva replaced the book she was holding back to its place on the shelf. "Well then. I suppose we won't be needing the Deva for now." As she passed her arm across her body, the hideous form dissolved from the head down in a mass of sparkling light. The figure now revealed was that of the Priestess Amar.

Lessa had been scouting ahead of the group to find the quickest path to Dark Eden. She had found the barrier when she felt that Novanus was in trouble, so she ran back to Seth and spurred him back. Soon she could hear a furious battle going on. She could see Jessie panting with a look of anger on her face. Izael was by a tree and Novanus looked shocked because there in front of them was an ancient. Lessa got off Seth and walked forward. For some reason this ancient was known to her, but from where...Of course.


	30. Chapter 30

A Powerful Adversary

"I know you, old one. You where thought to be dead. Tell me, how did you escape your punishment, betrayer? You, who forged the sword to kill vampires...You who forged Vukodlak," Lessa asked while walking forward and drawing her sword. "Ha ha ha. So one knows of me. I'm honored. Do you really think you can hurt me with that? Really, little one, you know nothing," the ancient replied, mocking her. "I can try," Lessa remarked.  
Lessa leapt forward and clashed with the ancient. She was knocked back as if she was nothing. She twisted in midair and smiled with satisfaction as the ancient's arm was on fire. The Ancient looked up at her, his lips drawn back in a snarl, "You will pay for that!" He leaped forward and Lessa blocked, but the force knocked her arm back. She was going to die. The ancient raised the blade for one last blow...and met flesh. There was a roar of pain and Seth fell to the floor in front of Lessa, impaled.  
"NOOO!" Lessa cried, tears forming. Lessa leapt forward full of rage, swinging madly. The ancient's blade was stuck, but Lessa could not do this alone. "Jessie, HELP me, your blade can do more damage." Jessie leapt forward and joined the fray.

Abel drew in a sharp breath at the sound of clashing metal just inches from him. As the weapons drew away, the kindred took Izael by the shoulders and beat his black-flecked, white wings to propel them both backward and away. He knew this ancient, he knew this ancient too well.  
"Lamediel! You are blinded by the very evil that you have fought so hard to banish, open your eyes!" "Silence, traitor. You have forgotten all that I had taught you!" the ancient barked, his focus unfaltering from the others who had wished to do battle and interfere. "I could never, even after your banishment," Abel answered, almost ashamed of being a childe of the beast that hovered before them. "Then why do you not follow your sire?" "Because I learned from you what not to become."

Abel raised his staff's head to the crying sky, the droplets of warm rain drenching the glowing crystals that swayed from the spiral's curves. The diamond cut stones began to pulse, accepting the snaking beams of light that slithered around them from the very air and illuminating the fashioned ash wood. "Shield your eyes! Flamgra'in Ssussun." With a mighty swing, the vampire slammed the glowing spiral against the ground and sent the gathered energy across the ground and up, encasing the possessed Ancient in a pillar of light that sparked and flashed like heavenly thunder.

From behind the arm drawn up to protect her face, Jessie saw the light of Abel's attack. When the brightness had subsided a bit, she lowered her arm to take in the scene. Lamediel was suspended in the pillar of light, paralyzed and being destroyed by its cleansing warmth. Jessie looked over to Lessa, who was kneeling by Seth's fallen form. Seth still had Lamediel's blade lodged in his chest, but at least Seth was still alive. Jessie walked over quickly and examined Seth more thoroughly.  
Jessie began to speak to Lessa, "Be thankful for Seth's unique physiology. The sword doesn't appear to have pierced any vital organs. We can save him, there is still time." Lessa got ready to remove the blade as Jessie prepared a healing spell. In one swift motion, Lessa was holding the blade away from Seth and Jessie's hand was covering the wound as she began the healing ritual.  
When she had done what she could, Jessie stood up and faced Lessa. She said, "It's up to Seth now. Um... about before... I'm sorry I let this happen. I didn't mean to just stand there, but the Nerayan saw my preoccupation with Lamediel as the perfect opportunity to resume their assaults on my mind. I was mentally blocking them out and didn't even know you were here until you called my name. I hope Seth recovers."

Novanus stumbled back from the area he had been thrown to, feeling as if he had been struck by a mountain. Never in the last millennium had he been hit so hard. His right arm felt numb and was hanging limply at his side and his mouth was bleeding. Staggering and stumbling, he made his way over to a nearby tree and braced himself while slowly counting to five. On the last number he threw his right shoulder into the tree trunk and, with a sickening crack, his harm relocated itself. It still felt sore but that would subside in a short time. Novanus walked back to the others, following the trail of felled trees and broken branches that his body had made as he had flown through the wood. A droplet of blood fell from a small cut above his eye. He licked it as it hung from his lip, even as the cut slowly began to get smaller.  
In the clearing the Ancient vampire hung within the warm glow of Abel's spell. For some reason its glow filled Novanus with a great sense of well-being, despite the fact that his body felt as if it had been under a meat cleaver for several hours. He looked up into the eyes of Lamediel. Novanus could not and did not want to hide his contempt for this vampire. He was an abomination. Novanus spat blood on the floor in front of the dying vampire. "Defiler. You are not fit to return to the wheel of fate." The vampire laughed and then grimaced in pain. "You cannot succeed, Novanus. Your quest will only bring misery and will ultimately fail. The Nerayan are too strong for the young one and Nosgoth will fall." Lamediel laughed even as his body seemed to shrink in on itself. His laugh turned into a maddening cry of pain while Novanus watched with a great deal of satisfaction. The pillar of light faded and Novanus turned back to the rest of the group. It was then that he saw Seth lying on the ground.  
Novanus walked over and laid a caring hand on the shoulder of Lessa. Seth's beautiful black mane was matted with blood, as was much of the hair all down his right side. With a shimmer, the mirage which hid Seth's true form disappeared and the demonic steed lay on the ground in his true form. Lessa let out a gasp. "It's ok. He's probably just trying to conserve his energy." In truth, Novanus didn't know how the dark mount would fare. He looked to Jessie for some reassurance but found only a shrug of the shoulders and a slightly bewildered look. Clearly the wraith had no idea of how the horse would fare. Lessa put her head down gently next to her companion. Novanus looked into Seth's eyes. There was great pain there, but also a fiery desire to live. Seth's life was in the balance still.  
The party decided to rest in that small clearing for the day. Under the thick canopy of the trees the vampires would be able to sleep protected from the sunlight. There was a general feeling of unease amongst them all. Novanus could not tell whether it was because of Seth's condition or the impending struggle. His own thoughts dwelt on the actions of that night. His body was still sore but the worst of the pain had subsided. What truly troubled him was that his company had killed an ancient, albeit a traitor and a heretic, but none-the-less one of his lords had been slain this night and now the race may have been truly extinct. It was an upsetting prospect. Novanus had always believed that there may have been a glimmer of hope, that some ancients had not died. Had they killed the last of that once proud race? Novanus looked over to Abel. He sat huddled against a felled tree, his great wings enveloping him. That poor wretch had done something that no vampire would ever wish to do – he had killed his own sire.  
Izael could find no rest, the vampire's words ringing in his mind, "Humans were never meant to become so powerful..." Was he nothing more than a member of a race born to slavery? The vampire had been mad, true, but the Sarafan Lord had said the same. Izael's faith started to shake. Then how could he have a sword with which to kill almost anyone who dared to oppose him? And had all his friends simply lied all along, catching him in a web of half-truths? And Lent had said that Kain was not... No, Izael refused to think like this. This was a poison, a web meant to catch him and turn him to darkness, a web no doubt created by the Nerayan. He walked into the rain, letting its cool touch wash away all the pain. He simply stood there and surveyed everything around him through the Sword. He even managed to smile for a while. Izael felt truly alive for a moment. He walked to a nearby hill, watching the landscape, smiling for the life itself. Then they were upon him, a dark web clouding his thoughts. Izael fell to his knees. The Nerayan...impossible! The Sword...was meant to...protect...him. "No...no...NO!" Izael struggled but was losing the battle, being caught unaware. How could this be happening?

That was his last thought, as he was swept away by the relentless tide. The body that once was his stood up and smiled with mad gleam in its eyes. The Sword's beautiful white glow dimmed, and then turned to twisted purple. Izael looked behind him, into the camp where the others were resting. Then he walked into the night, making sure he didn't leave any tracks.

Lent was walking behind them all. He felt the need to separate himself after the incident with Abel, like his responsibility for Kain had some how put him on the outside. Still, he wasn't about to leave his companions alone, he felt as if he had more to play in this drama. Perhaps Abel would earn his trust and he could see two brothers reunited, perhaps...  
In the distance he had seen the pillar of light stretch to the heavens. Lent began to run, following the tracks of snow until he came upon them. The group was crowded around Seth, who was injured. Lent slowly made his approach to them. The group seemed well knitted together, and he felt he would only be a disturbance. Walking off to the side, Lent inspected the area where the light had been. It had melted the surrounding snow, and a hint of its energy could still be felt.  
"Lent, don't stray so far from us," Lessa called out to him. He couldn't help but smile. Out of this group, he only felt close to Lessa, and appreciated that she wanted to include him. As he made his way to the group, a spark of energy fluxed behind him, and a portal burst open. Lent turned and was surprised to see an ancient vampire emerge. He could barely believe his eyes.  
"I'll destroy you all, one by one if I have to, starting with this one!" the vampire said as he flew to Lent. The vampire grabbed him and soared off, carrying Lent. They were moving at a brilliant speed, and the vampire hung Lent so low that his feet dragged against the cold snow. He cried out in agony, his feet felt as if they were frozen and on fire at the same time. The vampire took great pleasure in this.  
He first tried to free himself from the vampire's grasp, but in moments they were too high. Should he fall it would mean his death. His only option was to try and take the vampire with him. Lent turned to face his foe and drove his dagger into his lower chest. The vampire groaned a little and laughed. This fueled Lent's rage and he plunged his knife deep in the vampire's chest and took hold of his heart. The vampire let Lent go, but he held a firm grip to his heart. "I'll rip your arm off, human!" "Not before I take this with me." Lent lifted his legs to the vampire's chest, and pushed with all his might. The sound of ripping flesh filled his ears as a feeling of weightlessness surrounded him.  
Lent began to fall, and the vampire fell as well. Falling down, Lent kept a firm grip on the heart while the cold wind beat against his eyes as tears froze to his cheeks. When his body hit, he felt no pain, nor the still beating black heart he now held. All he felt was death.

Lessa saw Lent fall. She ran over to his body on the ground. Blood came from his mouth and his eyes were closed. Her mind screamed at the waste of it. No, it could not be, after all he had done: protected Kain, drunk of Vorador's blood, the pain he had suffered at her own hands. To die like that...Lessa placed her hand on his head, giving him the blessing to return to the wheel, where the god would welcome him. She then rose and walked away, back to Seth, and sat down beside him. She would have to tell Vorador. "Father. Your servant has fallen," she whispered to him. "How, my child?" came his response. "We ran across the foul traitor that made the sword Vukodlak. Lent fell at his hands." "And the traitor?" "Lent tore his heart from him before he fell to his death." "I see. Kain grows stronger and soon he may rise. Do what you must, my child. You head to Dark Eden, I know. Be careful, the blade is there and you know there is no cure for its touch for us," Vorador told her in a quite concerned voice.  
"I will, father, but I will do what I must, or nothing will matter. If I do not come back...be well, my lord and sire," said Lessa, sending all her love to him. "Go well, my child, but you will return. I would miss you too much." With that, Vorador cut off the whisper, he had tried to give her hope but she knew how dangerous and suicidal this task was.   
Novanus walked over to her and sat beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. "Yes. There is something you must know, Novanus. It would be better to tell you now in case I do not survive this endeavor. Vorador lives. He has Kain. That is where Lent went when he left the Temple. There is still hope. Kain will live and walk again if Vorador has anything to do with it."

The thing who once had been Izael froze in its tracks. It let out a piercing scream which could be heard miles away. The glow in the Sword turned to pale white again. Then the body of Izael fell to the ground. When Izael awoke again, the sun was rising. He tried moving and started laughing when he realized his movements were no longer controlled by another. It had been that ancient vampire...Lamediel, not the Nerayan, who had caught him and intruded his mind. Izael's freedom meant that the vampire was finally dead. He was free…and lost. Izael looked around. He had covered his tracks all too well, he couldn't tell a way back to the camp. Worse, he had no food. These woods were completely strange to him. But he would not give up. Izael stood up, looking grim, and started walking. Staying in one place would mean certain death.

Jessie was alone in the darkness, surrounded by voices. "Come, Jessie, return to us. You belong with us. Together, we will be complete. Come..." the Nerayan kept up an endless chatter of requests for Jessie to give in and join them. She would not do it. She would not allow herself to betray her friends to such a horrible existence. However, the Nerayan refused to accept that. They kept tearing at her mind, trying to wear her down.  
With a burst of energy, Jessie was able to expel them from her thoughts, at least for the time being. The world slowly came into focus around her. At first, she couldn't make sense of what she saw. Then it hit her: Lamediel had killed Lent. She couldn't believe it. She didn't know how to react. She walked over to his body, almost hoping she had been mistaken, but she couldn't detect any traces of life. 'At least he made that bastard pay,' thought Jessie as she looked at the heart firmly clasped in Lent's hand.  
Jessie thought over the last few times the Nerayan had noticeably increased their assaults against her consciousness. They seemed to try to get hold of her right when they were planning to do something to her friends. Perhaps they didn't really expect for her to ever join them and they were just trying to distract her. Now she really didn't want to join them. Ever. But she would need to find a way to block them completely if she was to be of any help in the future.

Izael collapsed in exhaustion, unable to continue any longer. He had been walking in these woods seemingly forever. Despair gripped his heart. He could never get out. He would die here. "No, you fool. Think! What have you been taught by Gad and Novanus? The Sword can help, it won't let me down now," he yelled at himself. And then he remembered: teleportation! With desperation, Izael merged his mind the Sword, calling it out to bring him to...where? Where were the others? He did not know. Izael understood he had only one choice: go to the Dark Eden and survive long enough for the others to arrive there. With a sigh, he focused. For a heartbeat Izael feared it wouldn't work, but then his form dissipated into shards of light.

Lessa sat looking at Lent. She looked at his face and body. Her eyes followed the line of his body until they came to rest on the heart he was holding. Of course - the heart. Lessa jumped up and ran to his body. She knelt beside Lent and pried the Heart from his fingers. Then she plunged her other hand into the chest of Lent, pulling out his heart and throwing it to one side. Taking the heart of the Ancient vampire, she plunged it in the hole she had just made in Lent's chest. Lessa then cut her wrist and dripped blood on the heart. It began to beat and knit itself into Lent. Lessa stood up and stepped back. The rest was up to Lent.  
Novanus had watched what she had done and he walked up to her. "Do you think this is wise?" "He has the right to it. He has done so much for us, for both of us, as you well know. He took Kain to Vorador, and even after what we did to him he came back to us. He should be given the dark gift," replied Lessa, crossing her arms and sitting back down next to Seth. "What will Vorador say to this?" Novanus asked, sitting next to her again. "I think he will find it fitting, but why don't you ask him yourself? I know you have missed him and Kain," she said while stroking Seth. "He will be glad to hear from you."


	31. Chapter 31

New Circumstances, Same Goal

Lent awoke to the pain of a new existence. His body felt cold and tight all over, his muscles ached, and his vision blurred. The only sound he could make out was a groan as he lifted his head. He rose quicker than expected, but his head fell to his hand. His head was pounding, but his heart was pounding more. He didn't feel right, but inspecting himself he didn't find anything wrong with him, either. "I should be dead," he said to himself. "You ARE dead," a familiar voice said to him.  
Lent had not realized someone else was there until he heard her voice. He looked up to see Novanus and Lessa. They looked so different, he could smell Lessa's blood tears, but it wasn't the fact that she had been crying. He could see clearer, hues he had never seen before. "What do you mean, I'm dead? If I didn't survive the fall then I couldn't have been turned. You can't turn a dead man into a vampire."  
"You can if you have the heart of an Ancient," explained Novanus. "You put that vampire's heart in my body?" He didn't need an answer, he knew that's what had to have been done. And if he needed further proof, all he had to do was feel his new fangs. "You know, as a fledgling I might just slow you down." "No more than before," Lessa said playfully. "If anything," Novanus said, "you've probably got it better. That heart will always restore your vampiric unlife. You'll be damn near impossible to kill. Just like your master." "Just like him, I can never have children either..." Lent stood up, his whole body felt lighter.  
"Thank you," he said to them both. "Don't thank me, thank Lessa," said Novanus. Lent smiled, "Thank you Lessa." She didn't say anything, just walked over to Seth. Novanus went to follow, and Lent grabbed his arm, asking, "Still have that blood chalice?" Novanus handed it to Lent, and Lent drank for the first time. He wasn't sloppy like most fledglings, but respected the value of blood. Not even a drop gathered on the sides of his lips. "Today is the first day of eternity, Lent," he said to himself, "and with the knowledge you carry, the locations of ancient blood fountains, vampire relics and spells you hold, you could be a great vampire indeed." Lent pondered this, and hinted a smile when he thought he might one day see Kain walk the earth. As a human, he would have been long dead when Kain was healed, now he could stand by his god and serve him. In the mean time, they all had to survive this ordeal. With Izael gone, the party was loosing hope. They had no choice but to continue on to Dark Eden, perhaps Izael would be waiting for them there.

Jessie watched this whole ritual with a detached attitude. She was busy trying to think of a way to shield herself more effectively against the Nerayan, but she allowed herself a small moment to reflect on Lent's return. 'If we all survive this, things will certainly be interesting,' she thought to herself. She was curious how Lent would react to being a vampire, but she was strangely certain that he would handle it well. The party began walking towards Dark Eden, hoping to find Izael there waiting for them, and Jessie followed along while she thought.  
She examined her memories of her recent near-possessions by the Nerayan in order to determine how exactly they were able to reach her. After a considerable time, Jessie kept finding her thoughts drifting back to Lamediel. What was that shield he had cast earlier, during her battle with him? It had blocked her attacks, her wraithen attacks. Maybe she could adapt it to block out the Nerayan. It definitely warranted looking into. She looked over her memory of the battle very closely to try to mimic exactly what Lamediel had done to cast the shield. After a little while longer, she felt confident that she could do it. Just as she cast the anti-wraithen shield around herself, the group came to the top of a small hill and found themselves looking upon Dark Eden. Would the shield hold? There was only one way to find out. Jessie was eager to reach Dark Eden and get this over with. The sooner she knew her friends would be safe, the better she would feel. However, between now and that moment of relief was possibly one of the biggest battles Nosgoth had ever seen.

Where Jessie watched, Abel listened. Though he was happy for their companion's return, the prior event still had him upset. And now Lent had the heart of his sire? The Lords know what knowledge might be bestowed upon him in later time. The kindred simply stood with his clawed hands clasped around his precious staff, feeling the last of the spell he had summoned fade away. Not even he knew that he could conjure up magic as he had displayed. What next, flight?...Not if he could help it.  
Abel approached Lent after all had calmed down and the party prepared to get on the move again. "Lent," he began, keeping his hands upon his staff and hoping just his voice would gain his attention, "I wish to apologize for the way I approached you before, 'twas untimely of me."

Izael looked around him. It was dark, although it was not yet even noon. Around him were twisted trees that looked like they were whining and bleeding in eternal agony. He raised the Sword and ventured deeper. Shadows seemed to dance and whisper around him, mocking him, laughing at the foolishness of coming here alone. Suddenly hands grabbed him and forced him on his knees. Izael dropped the Sword in surprise. A dark figure appeared in the shadows before Izael. "So, the Messiah is here at last."

Novanus sat alone staring into the fire. Dark Eden was a truly horrific place. All manner of evils lurked there and the prospect of walking through that cursed place only to confront the Nerayan was truly harrowing. Lessa came to sit by the lone vampire. "Busy night," she said. "My dear, busy does not even come close. The last few weeks have been some of the busiest I have experienced in my life." Lessa smiled. "You never seemed to suffer from thoughts like these in the old times." "I'm surprised those even sit in your memory. You were quite young before I met you. Not even turned then." "The memories of seeing you and Vorador in the mansion together are some of my most vivid. Sitting in the throne room watching you and him enjoying yourselves or simply just talking by the fireside with me curled up on the hearth in front of you." "Happier times," Novanus sighed uncontrollably. They had indeed been happier times. An age had passed since that time, but now, without Admar in his life, Novanus felt strangely drawn to them again. The pressures of the upcoming struggle had only been a glimmer in his mind's eye then, now they dominated everything.  
The flames danced within the fire, casting shadows across everyone and everything. Lessa leaned back to look at the sky. Novanus abruptly stated, "I'm sorry to cut this conversation short but I need to do something." Novanus stood up and walked over to the newly fledged Lent. "Mind if I have a seat?" Lent glared up at Novanus. Clearly past events were still fresh in the memory. "Lent, I'm sorry about how I've treated you in past weeks. The importance of what we are doing had consumed me. I didn't consider anything other than this task and in doing so I acted unbecomingly." Lent looked up at the vampire. "You think an apology like that can just wipe away what happened?" "No," Novanus replied, "but I hope that we can overcome what has passed between us." Novanus cautiously knelt down.  
"You're quite fortunate, you know. I was a seer and a spell weaver and I was more enhanced than a normal fledgling. What you'll be able to do with your original power and the heart of an ancient will be incredible. You are no mere fledgling and you will never be any mere vampire. Anyway I just wanted to let you know that I am sorry." With that, Novanus turned and walked back to Lessa and the fire.


	32. Chapter 32

Dark Eden

The group had been traveling interminably. Gadorian had again returned to his pensive silence ever since Izael left. He knew the boy, the man, was still alive and mostly healthy, but he still on that night he was unsettled by an indescribable wave of dread, no doubt coming from his brother of the sword.  
It had become apparent that their journey was nearing its close the further they went. The grass slowly turned from green to brown until all they walked upon was dirt and rock. The dwindling population of animals they encountered acted more and more queer, obviously touched by some of Dark Eden's corruption. And now they had finally achieved their goal, perched atop that hill overlooking the twisted citadel.  
Most of the others surrounded the camp fire, conveniently positioned on the slope away from Dark Eden, for none could bear to keep the monstrosity in their sight if they didn't have to, but Gadorian wandered towards the hill's peak. Upon reaching the summit, he was to take a moment to survey the fortress before them. Barely after he stopped his hike, however, he let out a shout of a strange mix of confusion and excitement. "That light! Look at the light!" Novanus and Lent came running up, perplexed. "I don't see anything." "There! Down in the valley!" It appeared to Gadorian as a brilliant glint, as if the greatest beams of sunlight were bouncing off some prismatic mirror, yet the others seemed the think him mad.  
Gadorian sprinted down the hillside, faster and faster, closer and closer to the light. The world around him became a blur until his vision contained only the light. Were he a human his skin would have surely been ripped from his face at the speed he ran. Finally, stumbling to a halt, he reached his goal, the light, Izael, the sword. Before he could so much as greet his lost friend, however, the radiance was eclipsed by a great shadow.

Lessa was at the fire when she saw Gadorian. Novanus and Lent rushed down the hillside. She ran to the top to see where they had gone. She could see them far ahead and in front was Izael. Lessa smiled - they had found him. However, the smile did not last long. She saw Gadorian stop as a shadow came between them and Izael. The shadow pulsed, then came together to form a shape that was human in nature, but it showed no features, just like her own shadow on the wall. The only thing that showed on the face was a pair of glowing red eyes.  
Lessa called the now healed Seth to her. In this place he could not conjure up his horse form so it was his true form that she could see. He ran to her without stopping and Lessa jumped onto his back. As he ran down the mountain, Lessa kept her eyes on the others. They stood frozen in shock at this thing in front of them. The shadow thing took a step forward and drew a blade Lessa had never hoped to see. The blade was very long, the edges seamed serrated, and it glowed with a red light akin to the thing's eyes. At the hilt was a carving of the enemy, and in its eyes were rubies that also glowed red. It was the blade that all vampires feared and never hoped to see found. It was the Vukodlak.  
Gadorian was just standing there looking at the blade. Lessa jumped off of Seth and pushed Gadorian to the ground as the shadow took a swipe at him. "Move it, Gad!" Lessa shouted as she got up. They scrambled to their feet as the thing came for them. Lessa grabbed Lent's and Novanus' wrists as she ran past them and dragged them with her. It seemed the blade would stun nearby vampires and make them stand there stupidly as they were cut down. They ran as the thing chased them laughing.  
Lessa ran with the others as the shadow chased her, but suddenly it was in front of her. Lessa gasped as she rolled out of the way. She brought the flame sword up to block the next blow. It was so fast, and it swiped at her again and again. It took all her strength and will to meet the attacks. She knew she would lose.  
Meanwhile, Novanus had turned round to see Lessa fighting with the thing. He took a step forward to help her when more shadows came out of the dark. They flew at Novanus and the others, claws and teeth gnashing.

Jessie dodged the nearby shadows. Her friends could deal with them. She went straight for the leader, the one with the great sword Vukodlak. She was a wraith, so the blade held no dreadful curse for her. It was, therefore, the logical tactic for her to distract this Shadow Lord while her friends dealt with the lesser minions that could not poison their blood. As for Izael, he was too precious to risk here.  
The Shadow Lord turned to face Jessie, surprised to see someone eagerly rush to meet the blade Vukodlak. A deep, rasping voice emerged from the direction of Jessie's opponent, "It's been a long time since I've faced a worthy opponent. No human is strong enough and no vampire is crazy enough to give me a good battle." Jessie replied, "You have no idea how crazy I truly am!" and with that, they started in to fight.  
The Shadow Lord charged at Jessie, swinging Vukodlak in an arc aimed to take off Jessie's head. Jessie raised her own sword right in front of her and the blades clashed, sending off sparks in all directions. Immediately both combatants recovered and they clashed swords again.  
The Shadow Lord was advancing, causing Jessie to back up in response. Jessie sensed Novanus behind her and realized that she couldn't back up any further without putting him at risk. She stood firm when the Shadow Lord struck at her, then she took advantage of a slip on his part to begin driving him backwards. Behind her, she heard a small scream as Novanus dispelled one of the shadows. She refocused her attention on the glowing red eyes of the Shadow Lord as he took a step back and strangely he ceased attacking. This made Jessie instantly suspicious. What was he planning to do?  
Jessie and the Shadow Lord began to slowly circle around each other, each trying to come up with a strategy to defeat the other. So far, in terms of swordsmanship, they seemed to be evenly matched. Jessie suddenly felt the probing presence of the Nerayan reaching for her mind in full force, but she did not lose control over her senses. The shielding she had mimicked from Lamediel seemed to be successfully blocking them out for now. However, Jessie realized what the Nerayan's assault meant: they were about to do something really bad and had wanted her out of the picture. An instant later, her assumption was confirmed. The Shadow Lord laughed and darkness poured out of his body, surrounding him with a large cloud of the void. She could barely even see the evil glow of the great blade Vukodlak. This was definitely not a good sign.

Abel kept well away from the battle, but for good reasons. "My friends," he whispered to those who could hear, "guard me whilst I concentrate." The kindred shut his blind eyes and held his staff out before him at arm's length, slowly letting go, holding his arms outward at his sides as he let the artifact hover there effortlessly. In a gentle voice he began to recite his learned spell, almost singing the ancient words.  
The Shadow Lord snarled from its inky black form, now splitting its attentions between Jessie and the cleric's summoning magic, not quick enough to decide who was the more threatening one as the ground began to quiver and quake.  
Like a being rising from primordial clay came a great, eyeless beast, its thick, arms outstretched as if crucified. Abel's eyes snapped open, his head turned from the sky, and his once golden pupils were now overtaken so his eyes were like shimmering gold almonds. The great earthen creature loomed its lizard-shaped, gorilla-like mass forward toward their adversary, drawing its great arm back as it mimicked its masters gesture from far off and swung with all of its might as Abel willed it with his deadpan order.

Izael watched the battle. He realized that his friends would not have much chance. The Lord of Shadows would hold them down, while more and more shadows would pour over them. Time was running out. They needed to get moving, and there was nothing he could do. He had been paralyzed and two shadows were guarding him. The Sword was on the ground, so near...Only if he could move. Could he use the sword without touching it? And what could he do? Izael started to concentrate. He no longer heard the sounds of battle or the beating of his heart. To his joy the Sword started to glow in pure white light. Izael concentrated harder, and again his form dissipated into shards of light. This time the trip was short, as Izael used the Sword to appear directly above the Shadow Lord. Izael dropped through the shadowy mist that formed the Lord. He dropped to the ground with a thud. His head started ringing and his body ached, as he hadn't been able to shield himself from the fall. Luckily it had been a short one, one that had disrupted the Lord greatly, as it was forced to re-materialize closer to Jessie. Jessie immediately used the opportunity and stabbed the Lord. Izael tried to smile, but was still paralyzed. Worse, he was almost fainting from exhaustion, as he had been forced to concentrate hard to be able to teleport.

The Shadow Lord gathered his form again and drew his sword out. Lent stood posed and ready. "Lent," Lessa called out to him, "That sword is deadly to our kind."  
Lent turned to listen to what Lessa was saying just as the Shadow Lord took a swing at him. The sword slashed his sleeve and cut his arm. The Lord laughed. Lent inspected his arm, which healed instantly. All that remained was the cut on his sleeve. "Impossible!" the Shadow Lord said. "Your foul magic does not work on me. Return from whence you came or be driven into oblivion."  
The Shadow moved towards Abel, and Lent moved with him, going so fast his feet never touched the ground. The Shadow Lord took another swing and Lent jumped into the air. In a seemingly impossible acrobatic feat, he jumped again, pushing off of the very air itself, and fell behind the Shadow Beast. The shadow split into two beings, with his cursed sword on the right one. Lent went straight for the new creature on the right whilst Jessie attacked the being on the left.  
These two were quicker than the other larger entity. Lent deduced that it was because he was in a somewhat weaker state. He would eventually try to rejoin with himself to be strong again. In that moment, he would be vulnerable.

Lessa got Izael out of the way while Jessie and Lent battled the Shadow Lord. Jessie's adversary did not have a weapon, so Jessie easily dispelled it. However, it reformed as quickly as she could hack it apart. She watched Lent fight out of the corner of her eye. He was doing quite well, especially considering that he had not bothered to draw a weapon. He was taking on the Shadow Lord and Vukodlak with his bare claws and he appeared to be winning. 'Very impressive,' thought Jessie. However, raw strength alone wouldn't win the battle. They needed a plan, and Jessie began to work on one.  
She continued attacking her half of the Shadow Lord, then right before it reformed, she moved slightly around so that she was facing Lent. The Shadow Lord fragment reformed directly in front of her, taunting her, every single time. After a short while, both halves of the Shadow Lord were right next to each other and were between Jessie and Lent. Jessie and Lent attacked from opposite sides, driving the halves together in order to lure the Shadow Lord into rejoining into one being. He took the bait.  
The shadows began to pull together, forming a swirling ball of black mist with red eyes and the Vukodlak. Lent took full advantage of this, running in and swiping upward with such force that the Shadow Lord was thrown high up into the air. Lent and Jessie both jumped up to attack him on the way down. Lent furiously tore the Shadow Lord to bits with his claws while Jessie repeatedly sliced at him with her sword. The Shadow Lord didn't know which one of them to attack first and this hesitation cost him dearly. Jessie's sword sent the Vukodlak hurling away.  
The Vukodlak hit the ground and lodged into it, standing upright as if inviting someone to take it, at the exact same time as its master's body hit the dirt. Jessie and Lent came down right on top of him, still attacking. Lent backed away a bit after deciding that the Shadow Lord was not going to get up any time soon. Jessie held her sword out in front of her and it began to glow very bright green. She touched it to the fallen form of the Shadow Lord and a sweeping tide of grey radiated outwards from Jessie's sword and covered his body. Bits of him crumbled and fell away as his energy was drawn into Jessie's blade. Amazingly, though, he retained enough mental clarity to communicate because Jessie heard his laughter. She wondered what his last words would be. Probably some taunt or another, maybe a curse, she had heard almost everything throughout her long life. What the Shadow Lord actually said, though, came as a complete surprise to her.

Novanus blocked an overhead blow. The claws of the shadow rent through his flesh as if it were no more than parchment. He snarled and thrust his clawed hand into the shadow, which dissipated as soon as its form was compromised. With a lunge, he leapt into another shadow, but froze in his tracks as a telekinetic blow thrust him to the ground. His mind exploded in a world of pain as the consciousness of the Nerayan assaulted his mind and the shadow warrior his body. It was so strong. Novanus cried out in rage and tore apart the assaulting shadow with his bare hands. He then collapsed to the ground even as Lessa blocked the blow of another shadow, defending him. Novanus grabbed his head, cradling it in his hands. The pain was excruciating.  
_Your will crumbles Novanus._ The emotionless voices of the Nerayan laughed. "I will not be your pawn," Novanus uttered defiantly, trying even harder to block them out. His right forearm seared with pain as his skin blackened and the all too familiar mark the Nerayan had laid on him not so long ago strengthened. Novanus uttered a heart-wrenching cry and leapt into the air just as Lessa had finished another shadow warrior and turned to help him.  
How high up Novanus had flown he didn't know. All he could feel was the pain of the Nerayan leaking through his shields, the suffering of the inhabitants and, at the same time, the need to help and join those voices. This was Novanus' struggle for his own sanity.

Lessa watched as Novanus flew up into the air. It was then that she saw the hated blade, still in the ground, start to quiver. The Nerayan meant to kill Novanus! Lessa called Seth to her and, leaping onto his back, she sent him soaring to Novanus. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a shadow form around the blade and jump at Novanus, but Lessa got there first. Grabbing Novanus, she put him over the saddle. This all happened in a split second, and as Seth began to fall back to earth, Lessa could see the shadow coming towards her. She couldn't move or it would kill Novanus, so she did the only thing she could do. She jumped to meet him, Flame sword drawn.  
The two beings clashed in midair in a great blow and fell to the earth. Lessa got up and saw the shadow run at her, so she brought the blade up to block the first blow, but the second impaled her through the side. Lessa screamed in agony; the creature laughed. "Did you think you could save him, little one?" it asked as it drew the blade from her. Her body convulsed forward as he pulled out the blade. He raised it to kill her completely, laughing and taunting all the time.   
Lessa gripped the flame sword tighter as her rage boiled inside her. "Now you die!" the shadow cried triumphantly as he brought the sword down. "NOT JUST YET!" Lessa yelled, bringing the flame sword to meet Vukodlak. The blades met with a flash. The flame sword was glowing white-hot, fueled by Lessa's rage. It smashed through Vukodlak, shattering the blade. Then the flame sword sucked in the power of Vukodlak and, as Lessa smiled, an explosion of light and fire came from the flame sword. A ring of fire swept out, destroying the shadows that where left.  
When the dust settled, Lessa could see that they had gone. She looked to the flame sword that now looked black. Even as she watched, the sword turned to dust and blew away in the wind. That was that, then, her sword was gone, but at least she had destroyed the blade Vukodlak as well. Suddenly Lessa felt a sharp burning in her side where she had been stabbed. She looked down to the wound and saw as she expected...where red blood should have flowed and healed her, only black remained. She fell to the floor as a new wave of pain hit her.  
Lessa knew she was going to die, had known it when the blade had gone through her flesh. She sat on the floor thinking. Memories came of Vorador. She must tell him the good news, that the blade was destroyed, but she didn't have the strength to whisper him. Again the pain hit her, she could feel it spreading now. She lay down hoping Novanus, Lent, Gadorian and the others where okay.


	33. Chapter 33

Lessa in Peril

As the earthen entity melted back into his grounded home, dispelled by its vampiric summoner, Abel wrinkled his nose, regaining his full consciousness. The scent of rancid, rotten flesh and stale blood reached his heightened senses. From where it came he did not know, or even whose it was. That was, until Jessie answered his wonderings for him as he heard her approach. "Little One, are we all accounted for?" "Yes, but Lessa..." Yes, a female's blood it was, though the scent was heavily clouded by the rancid curse. "Take me to her."  
As Jessie took the claw he gave her and led the kindred to where Lessa lay, Lessa shook her head lazily, using the strength that swiftly faded to speak. "This…is nothing you can reverse or cure..." "I know very well that it cannot be cured," he said softly, kneeling down beside her as he followed her voice and labored breaths, "it must be removed." Lessa parted her lips to speak again, but, whether it was a question or statement, it was lost as Abel spoke over her. "Relax, you might as well accept my services whilst you still can...Someone aid me and hold her, please," he selectively whispered to the group that had gathered, and he found Lent obligingly ready to keep his dear friend still.  
Abel held down his grimace as he found the black leaking wound, his touch so light she could barely feel it until he began to summon his clerical magic. He swirled the tip of his claw in the cursed vitae that had gathered, getting as close as he could to the wound, coaxing the liquid to snake magically around the hardened finger. It was from there the kindred slowly began to pull and wind the solidified ailment around his spread, cloven fingers like a spindle.  
The blackened blood, Lessa could feel, was separating from what was left of her own and was being pulled from her like a worm, sliding from the veins it had coursed though. Discomfort came first, but as Abel had the now rope-like black around his three cloven fingers, the curse struggled to stay with its host and caused the kindred to stop at the first sign of resistance.  
He gave Lent a knowing glance before continuing. It was if it had claws, raking their nails along the walls of her veins as he proceeded to remove the rebellious blood, but it was either this or the final death...and Lessa wasn't too keen on dying again.

Izael picked up the Sword and walked to see if Lessa was okay, the paralyzing curse having lifted after Shadow Lord's death. He looked at what Abel was doing. "You could've just asked me to counter that curse. After all, I hold the exact opposite of the blade that did this." It was good to see his friends were ok, though Lent had been turned to vampire, if Izael was correct. If they'd survive this through, he would ask Lent what it is like to die and awake into a new existence. But now was not the time. Izael turned to Gadorian and Novanus. Novanus was still holding his head and was not looking too good. Izael said quickly, "The Shadow Lord told me of his plans. We must get moving. There are whole armies marching to eliminate us. The barriers between the worlds will crumble today." With that, Izael turned and started walking. Dark shapes were already forming in the distant horizon. "They are coming."

Novanus awoke from his sleep. The vampire stood up on his cloven feet and walked to the glowing embers of the fire and sat down. "Novanus." The vampire seer twisted his head quickly but found the others all asleep. Who had called his name? "I'm here, Novanus." He turned again but saw nothing. The voice had come from the nearby stream. He followed the quiet whispering until he was kneeling by the stream bank. He stared into the water.  
His reflection smiled. Novanus didn't. "So kind of you to arrive," said the reflection. Novanus stared in wonder at the talking reflection. "What are you?" he asked in a strained voice. "You," came the reply. "What do you mean, me? You can't be." "None-the-less I am. I've come to give you some important information." Novanus' heart skipped a beat. Was this a crucial moment when he might discover a tool to unlock Dark Eden? "What is this news? Please tell me." "You know." "Know what?" "You're of no use to the others now." Novanus stiffened, asking, "And why is that?" "Because you're lost to them." Novanus looked puzzled and said, "Lost? I think not." "Oh no, you are truly lost," came the response with ominous finality.  
The moonlight cast on the stream changed to a sickly green. The stream began to glow. Novanus grabbed his head in pain and then began to laugh. Not a laugh of amusement or even joy but one completely devoid of anything. He felt himself spiral out of control into the flowing stream in front of him and his still smiling reflection. Novanus awoke with a blood sweat on his brow. Where was he? More importantly, who was he?

Jessie watched Abel remove the black blood from Lessa's wound. Jessie cringed as the curse tore up Lessa's insides in an attempt to remain within her. Jessie hated to see this happen to Lessa, but it was necessary. Izael's blade must not be tainted by the Vukodlak. Jessie was tense, suspicious of this curse inflicted on Lessa. The Vukodlak should not have broken that easily. The flame sword was strong, but it was not that strong. It was almost as if the Shadow Lord had willed the Vukodlak to break. Yes, it had been a sacrifice. Let them think that they had won, then destroy them from within.  
It happened very quickly. The cursed blood suddenly released Lessa completely and launched itself towards Abel's face. Abel didn't see it coming. Jessie had been expecting it, though, and she lunged over and caught the black slime before it reached Abel's face. Abel understood what was happening and shouted for Lent to take Lessa and get back. Lent helped her to stand and the two walked a considerable distance away. Already, Lessa's blood was bringing her back to full health.  
Jessie and Abel struggled with the slime, trying to hold it and keep it from infecting Abel. Abel was still holding it, and it took advantage of this by trying to sink into his skin. Jessie released a shock of energy from her hand into the vile blood. The blood went slack long enough for Abel to withdraw his hand. Jessie watched the cursed blood writhe and squirm in her hands as if it was alive. It probably WAS alive. When the Vukodlak had been destroyed, all of its power and energy went into its final curse. Jessie mulled over the Shadow Lord's last words to her, comprehension just on the edge of consciousness. Suddenly, the cursed blood lost viscosity and streamed through Jessie's fingers like water. It began to absorb energy from the place where it landed. Jessie felt the ground grow cold beneath her feet. The Shadow Lord's last words were now painfully clear.  
He had said, "Do you remember how the Vukodlak was forged?" She did remember. The Hylden had commissioned Lamediel to make it like the Reaver and had given it to one who they thought was their champion. In truth, this "champion" was an extension of the Nerayan that had managed to cross the barrier between worlds and enter Nosgoth. When this warrior turned on the Hylden, the Vukodlak devoured the warrior completely. Shortly after, the Hylden had been banished and the Pillars erected to bind them in the other dimension. Unknown to the vampires, the Pillars also served to block out the Nerayan. Now, the only Nerayan left in Nosgoth was on the ground before Jessie, attempting to create a full material form. Jessie knew that it must be prevented from opening the way for its brethren or all was lost.

Izael turned back to see what was taking the others so long. Didn't they understand that by staying here they were doing exactly as the Shadow Lord had meant for them to do? Could they not see the growing stain in the horizon? What he saw was a beaten and tired group on the brink of collapsing. Desperation filled Izael's heart. How could they ever win against such an overwhelming foe if only the smallest battle to be fought took such an amount of strength?

Jessie stared at the puddle of matter on the ground in front of her. It was the essence of the Nerayan and it was desperately draining energy out of the environment in order to obtain enough to create a true material form. Jessie had to contain it somehow. She cast a spherical shield around it, hoping to trap it. Instantly she felt it probing her shield from the inside and in reflex she shattered the shield so that the Nerayan wouldn't be able to probe it for weaknesses. She intended to make it out of this and it just wouldn't do to have the Nerayan capable of piercing her shielding.  
Abel cast a spell to try to banish the Nerayan slime back to its own dimension, but the black blood could not be expelled without opening a pathway between the two worlds, so Abel stopped to think. Without warning, the slime oozed into the dirt and disappeared. A few seconds later, a scream drew Jessie's and Abel's attention. The scream was from Lessa. In her weakened state, she was still vulnerable and the slime had sprung out of the ground. It encased Lessa in a bubble, growing as it fed off of her life's energy. Jessie told Abel to stay back. She went forward and grabbed Lent, pulling him away as well. He was standing there, paralyzed with shock over what was happening. Time was running out and Jessie still didn't know how to contain this enemy. Perhaps it was time for Izael and his Sword to meet the Nerayan after all.

Lessa had been leaning on a tree when the black slime had gone into the ground. Had it gone? She did not know. She looked to Novanus, who was still clutching his head. What was wrong with him? No doubt the Nerayan were up to something. She took a step forward towards him when something coiled around her leg. She looked down and saw that the black slime was crawling up her; it burned like fire. Lessa screamed as the slime enveloped her.  
Blackness consumed her but the pain remained. She could see outside as if looking through. She could see Izael run towards her, she saw his blade strike but it just got sucked in. Lessa saw the blade hover in front of her, then she could see Izael's shocked face. She had to get it back to him somehow. She could hear the creature laughing. It was so sure it had won. The only way Izael could kill this thing was if it was constrained somehow, but HOW? Then Lessa knew what she had to do. The reason why no one was cured from the blade was because when the curse was extracted, it let the Nerayan gain form. They only way they could hope to win was if Lessa took it back into herself.  
Grasping the sword, Lessa cut her palm and let the blood flow into the darkness. She must hurry, the thing was nearly upon Izael. Suddenly her wrist began to burn like before, her plan was working. "Noooo. You can not defeat me, you will all die," screamed the slime. "Yes I can," said Lessa in a strained, pain-filled voice. The creature tried to reason with her, "But if you do this, you will die. You can not live with me in your blood." "And you can do nothing but go to the abyss while joined to me. I am ready to die, foul thing. Are you?" "NOOOOOOOO!" it screamed, but it could do nothing.  
Lessa felt her legs touch the ground as the black entity was sucked back into her. She collapsed to her knees holding the sword. "Izael, I think this belongs to you," said Lessa, managing a weak smile. "Lessa," said Izael, taking the blade. Abel walked over to heal her again. "No, my friend, you must let me go, this thing must die with me," she said, falling back, but she did not fall far. Lent was there to catch her. "Lessa, we can't just let you die!" said Lent, his blood tears starting to flow. "It's okay, you have to." Lessa turned to Abel. "I know you search for Kain and I trust you so I will tell you how to find him. Go to Meridian and find the Blue Lady Inn. Knock and a vampire will ask you what you want. Ask to speak to Vorador, tell them Lessa sent you. That will gain you entry. I can not be sure you will see Kain, you will have to convince my father before he will let you, but he will hear you out." Lessa could sense, even in this state, that Lent did not approve. "Lent, if he truly is a threat to Kain, Vorador will know."

She gasped in pain before going on, "Gad...Take care, you are not a failure and I will not have you think otherwise, even if I have to come back from the abyss and hit you one to remind you." Lessa was still smiling, even through all of the pain. Gadorian bent down and held her hand. Lessa squeezed it in thanks. "Gad, if I ask you to do something, will you promise me to do it?" Lessa asked, looking into his eyes. "Of course, child, anything." "Look after Novanus, he will need you. If there is any way I can return and help I will, but I need you to promise to look after him." Lessa gripped his hands tighter, searching his face. "I promise, Lessa," Gadorian replied as he stroked her face. Lessa smiled and, looking at Lent, she had one more thing to ask before she could let go. When she spoke, it was barely a whisper, so Lent had to lean down. "Lent, when you return to Vorador, tell him I'm sorry, and that I love him."  
Tears came to Lessa's eyes, but the red blood now flowed black. She looked up to the stars and smiled. Finally she convulsed in pain as the being made one final attempt to escape...and then...Lessa...simply...Let go...The others saw the life leave Lessa as her body sagged to the ground...she had gone.  
Izael looked how life left Lessa, tears blinding his eyes. He never thought something like this could ever happen. Vampires were supposed to be immortal, not weak and fragile like humans. Suddenly something caught his attention. The black...entity was still trying to leave Lessa's already dead body. Izael knew what must be done but was afraid to do it. He took up the Sword and concentrated for a moment, making the blade burn in white, cleansing fire. He then touched Lessa's body gently with the blade, and watched as it caught fire and started to burn. He could swear he heard the slime scream as it desperately squirmed to leave the inferno. They all just stood there for a while, until cruel wind had scattered the ashes and they were sure the black slime was no more. Then they all turned away, tears running down their faces that showed grim determination. The time of revenge was at hand.  
Jessie was very sad about what had just happened. She felt extremely frustrated that she had not been able to prevent Lessa's death. Strangely, though, she did not sense the Elder God's laughter that he usually taunted her with when he claimed one of her friends. What could that mean? Maybe the threat from the Nerayan was great enough that he wanted her full attention focused on saving Nosgoth and, by extension, saving himself.  
Jessie and her remaining friends stood in the cruel wind, facing the oncoming battle. The anger over Lessa's death gave them strength and the desire for vengeance. Jessie was about to suggest that they continue moving when something registered in her mind. With all of their attention focused on Lessa, they had not noticed Novanus' absence. Where was he? "Has anyone seen Novanus?" she asked.

Izael looked at the horizon, which now was clearly black. He could almost make out forms of shadows moving fast towards them in an unstoppable wave. "There is no time to search for him. We can only pray he will eventually show up." "What do you mean? We can't simply leave him." Izael turned to face Jessie, "There is a huge darkness coming for us as we speak. If we waste time searching for Novanus we can all end up dead." With that, Izael pointed to the direction of the darkness. Its growth could now be clearly seen.  
Jessie looked to the pointed direction and seemed surprised, "I see nothing out of the ordinary. Now let's go find Novanus, we can't win the upcoming battle without him." Izael stared at her like she was mad. "Can you not see them? How they are coming for us? WE GOTTA GET MOVING!" "All seems normal to me," said Lent. Izael didn't know what to do. He turned to look at Gadorian for support. Gadorian merely said, "You see something we cannot. This is very troubling." Izael could now clearly make out the forms of individual shadows, how they all moved in perfect unison. They almost covered the sun with their horrible presence. Izael knew their time was up. He started running, his face a mask of sheer horror. The shadows blackened the sun. Izael could hear the strange voice they made as they floated on. He stumbled, stood up, and ran faster. He knew he wouldn't make it in time. All light dimmed, the Sword being the only source of light in the utter darkness. Izael turned to look back. He couldn't see his friends. He was caught alone in the overwhelming darkness that was alive in a horrible way. Dark hands reached for him everywhere, but avoided the light of the Sword. It was all over. He could fight, but eventually he would grow tired and the darkness would take him.

Novanus wandered through the forest searching, for what he didn't know, but there was something out there which would give him the answers he required. He was a vampire. That much he knew. It was perplexing how he could still remember what a vampire was, but not who he was. The pale moonlight lanced down through the canopy of trees, providing more than enough light for his vampiric sight to focus on the terrain. Novanus stopped walking and sat upon the broken trunk of an old tree. Things just didn't make any sense any more.  
"There you are, silly." Novanus looked up into the large watery eyes of a young girl. She couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. Her face was white like porcelain but it beamed with an inner warmth that for some reason made Novanus feel like he was home. "You know me?" he whispered. "Father, will you stop playing now? We have to go." The young girl held out her hand. "Father!" Novanus reeled from the word. "Honestly, father, I just wanted to play a simple game and you went and spoilt it. Mother will be so disappointed." "Mother?" Novanus allowed himself to be pulled into the woods by the girl, if only to have his questions answered.

Lessa awoke to find herself in the woods. She looked down at herself to check the wound...and found it gone. "What the hell?" Lessa gasped. She stood up and looked at her hands. She could see through them. "What is going on?" her mind asked. She had died, she knew she had, so how could she be here? She walked up to a tree and leaned against it. She now took in her surroundings. The trees were warped and black and everything had a green blurry hue to it as if she was underwater looking out. There were muffled screams and moans coming to her ears now as if, again, she was hearing underwater.  
"What are you doing here, child?" said a voice next to her ear. Lessa spun around but no-one was there. "Wh...who are you?" she asked in a timid voice. "It does not matter who I am," said the voice in a very deep tone, "but I come to tell you that a friend of yours needs your help." "Who? who needs my help, tell me!" Lessa shouted at the voice. "Novanus." "But how will I get to him? I'm dead," Lessa said in defeat. "Will yourself, child, and it will be done, but I warn you - making yourself visible and being able to do things in the physical world will drain you. Drain yourself too much and you will return to the wheel," said the voice, fading away. Lessa could have sworn that before it faded completely it had started to laugh. Lessa focused her mind on Novanus as Vorador had taught her to use her will. The world about her began to change to the way she knew it, and there in front of her was Novanus walking through the forest. He seemed to be following something. Lessa decided to follow him.

"Come on, father. You're being so slow. We have to hurry or dinner will be spoilt, and mother will be ever so cross." Dinner? The mere concept seemed strange to Novanus. He was clearly a vampire but this girl, she displayed no characteristics of having been afflicted with the dark gift. "Hold a second, child. Who are you?" The girl looked up at him perplexed. For some reason she reminded him of someone. "Are you sick, papa?" she asked quizzically. "Do you remember when I was sick? I got all of those blotches all over my face and mother and you took turns to sit and look after me." Even as the girl spoke, Novanus' worries fell away. He knew something was wrong but he simply didn't care. He did remember sitting by the child's bed. The realization that this child was, in fact, his came as no surprise at all.  
"Kira," Novanus crouched down and pulled his daughter into a loving embrace.  
"Father, what's wrong?" "Nothing now, child, lead on." Kira led her father through to a clearing filled with large ornate tents. Children played amongst them whilst adults cooked outside upon their carefully prepared fires. The smells of the food did not make Novanus hungry at all, but he paid no heed to this fact. Around the central fire a group of musicians were playing a tune that was hauntingly familiar. It was an old tune, one of his masters. He had heard it recently but he couldn't remember where. At the sight of Novanus they all cheered and struck up a new beat, one which was a lot more cheerful. Children ran to dance around the musicians whilst their parents brought out the evening meal. The tribe would eat out together tonight. Tonight was special. Tonight the Serioli celebrated the return of their seer.  
Out of one of the tents stepped the most beautiful woman Novanus had ever seen. Her figure was shapely and when she smiled at him, her face glowed and his heart skipped a beat. She carefully placed her contribution to the evening meal by the fire to stay warm and then walked towards him. "Welcome home, my love," she said, and promptly embraced him. The moment their lips touched, Novanus knew he had come home.

Orugarde knelt before the Priestess, awaiting her next direction. She motioned for the young apprentice to follow as she walked toward the large stone doors marking the exit. "Orugarde, I have another task for you. Now that Kour is preoccupied with obtaining the Eye, we can proceed to plan. You must now return to the temple. A small group of warriors loyal to the 'New Order' awaits your return. Your task is to lead this group to find the location of the Divine One and bring Him here, unharmed." "Yes, My Lady." But before he left, the Priestess warned, "Orugarde, heed my words. He must not be awakened." "Yes, My Lady." And with that, Orugarde left the Grotto.  
From a nearby alcove, a figure in the shadows watched as Orugarde ascended the cave, alone. "Patience is not for the young, is it Orugarde?" he thought, a hint of sarcasm in the tone. His eyes, once warm and sympathetic, were now cold and focused, as they followed Orugarde, watching his outline melt into the background and disappear from view. Turning back into the alcove, the silent figure walked into the shadows, a little older, a little wiser…


	34. Chapter 34

The End is in Sight

Izael stumbled on through the sea of darkness. He hacked left and right, moving forward, hoping to find the Seal somehow. The shadows had inflicted horrible wounds, and every step felt harder to take then the last. 'They are playing with me, wearing me down. They know as well as I do how this will end,' Izael thought. He wouldn't give up... he had to keep on fighting...  
His moves became slower and slower. Already the shadows easily dodged all his blows. Suddenly he came upon a huge and ancient structure. He had made it! Izael couldn't believe it...he had survived. Suddenly he sensed something...a change in the darkness. They were coming for him now. They had only let him think he'd made it. Now they would finish the game. "NO!"  
Izael fought them with all his might, killing them in droves, but dark claws tore his chest faster he could heal himself. Izael tried to get into the shrine, but the doors were locked. He was backed against a wall. The shadows attacked again, and again, and again.

Izael swung his blade but it was caught, he couldn't move it. He began to scream and panic, then the shadows called out to him. "Izael!" as if it were a final cry.  
Izael opened his eyes to see Lent hold his sword. Lent looked at him with the most serious eyes. "Don't let the demons take you," Lent said to him. Izael slowly regained his composure. "The Nerayan are attacking my mind," Izael said, "I thought the sword was meant to protect me." "Only while the barrier is intact. It's failing fast, we must find the temple soon," Gadorian said. "Lent, would you know where it is?" Lent shook his head. "It's right here," Izael said, turning to a solid mass of rock. "I saw it in a vision." The group looked at it, but there were no ancient vampire marks, no worn away designs, or visible doors. Nothing but a solid mass. "I think you're mistaken," Lent said.  
Izael was frustrated, he had come so far and time was running out quickly. In an impulse of aggravation, Izael struck the rock with his sword. No sooner did he do that than an opening blew out to the group's right side, revealing a set of stairs that went deep below the land. The group members looked at each other nervously, and then proceeded to descend into the darkness. Izael stepped in first, and a series of ancient torches lit the way before them. Walking on the downward spiral staircase, not a word was spoken. None of them knew what to expect, what to say, how to react. They stopped. The path split off into five separate doorways, each marked individually by a distinct symbol.   
"What in the hell?" Lent said as he noted the symbol on the far left. It was the symbol of the Loki. To the right was a symbol of a wraith, in the center Serioli, then the symbol of the vampire protector of the Serioli, and finally that of the ancient.  
"This can't be a coincidence," Jessie said. "It's not," Gadorian confirmed. "We're here because we're meant to be here. We follow these paths and inside we face our own demons, our worst fears, and should we prevail, we will meet on the other side." "What will we see?" asked Izael. "It's different for each and every one of us," Gadorian replied. "Then let's stop wasting time," Lent said and entered through his doorway. He promptly disappeared and the door behind him sealed shut.

"This is it, then. The final hour has come. Let's make those demons pay for playing with our minds," Izael said, walking towards the largest doorway in the center.  
"Good luck. Remember, whatever you will see, it is only in your head," and with that, Gadorian stepped into the doorway next to Izael's.  
Izael stood there for a while, thinking of all that they had been forced to give in order to reach this. When he remembered all the losses, all those who had died for him, Izael swore he would make sure they hadn't died in vain. "Is everything okay?" Jessie asked. Izael nodded and walked to the door in the end of his doorway. He raised the Sword and plugged it into the lock. A strange humming filled the room, then the door became ethereal. Izael stepped inside. Behind him, the doorway collapsed. Inner demons...no, but fears...

Abel felt he had too many fears to name, flight being a big one. Just passing through the door would be a test all of its own. He heard the other doors accept their victims, though Jessie had not yet left his side. Without a word, the vampire turned and embraced her, holding her snuggly, as that left the wraith to pause before returning the gesture. "If you say goodbye, Abel, I'm going to be very angry with you," she warned. Abel smiled, giving her one last squeeze before drawing away, his cloven hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "Only if this was the end, Little One, and I feel that we are far from the end." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "I wish you luck." Jessie swallowed, watching him turn and move away from her. She felt the urge to follow, yet held herself back. This was something they had to face separately. "I better see you on the other side." "I promise you will, as I had better see you." Abel could feel the warm glow of the symbol on his face and the fading of the barrier that drew him in through the open wall. Still reluctant, he accepted the looming welcome as he stepped through the opening.  
In his blindness he could hear numerous, distant voices, though from what direction he could not determine. He aimlessly wandered where he thought was forward as he listened to the mingling voices, sifting through as he tried to filter out anything that sounded even vaguely familiar. As he ventured, the empty blackness he had always known began to fade to deepest grey, to pale grey. It wasn't long before, for the first time in his life, Abel shielded his eyes and squinted against the light.  
"Abel..." The vampire looked up, his once absent vision now swimming and distorting what seemed to be a figure before him. Slowly he let his arm rest at his side... "Kain? Is that you?"

Gadorian walked through his door to burst into the middle of a grand festival. Banners were strung across all the buildings of this antediluvian metropolis. The sun glinted off the confetti frolicking through the cool air. Gadorian could smell things almost as wonderful as the music which filled his ears, but the street he was on was empty. He started to rush ahead, but stopped for a moment, climbing atop one of the many towers ornately, and cleverly, carved into an angelic figure.  
At the top he could see a great deal of the city, throbbing with life and celebration. His view was blocked however by...fog? How could there be such thick fog on a day as bright and sunny as this? He would have to climb still higher, above the fog. Gadorian jumped off of the statue's head onto its long outstretched arm. He began to sprint up the bicep, but nearly fell when he was hit by a gust of wind. Regaining his balance, he stopped for a moment, curiously short of breath after such a brief run, and then precariously stalked towards the palm.  
From his new vantage point, he could more accurately survey his surroundings, but the fog still blanketed much of the city. Turning his eyes southward, he found his view again blocked, but this time by something much sturdier than fog. Gadorian nearly fell for a second time from shock, but, regaining his balance, found that his first notion was accurate. He laid down, trying to comprehend his surroundings, and wrapped his arms around the great stone fingers of the statue. He needed to catch his breath.

Jessie hung back for a moment in the junction where all of their paths separated. She wondered what was on the other side of her door. These pathways were created specifically to feed off of the fear of each unique individual, to test each person and get each person to confront a personal nightmare. Jessie was curious what was in store for her. 'I do not succumb to fear, I inspire it in my enemies,' she thought. With that, she walked over to her door, plunged her sword into the keyhole created specifically for it, and entered what was meant to be her own worst nightmare.

As soon as she was inside, the doorway disappeared behind her. The environment was very dim, but there were several vibrant sources of colorful light. Everything was a gentle wash of pastel colors against a black and starry sky. There were several large plants that were fashioned into living spaces. Creatures floated effortlessly above, gliding around and enjoying the beautiful scenery. Jessie looked around and began to laugh. This was no nightmare. This was one of her favorite places to go when she needed to calm down. Why would the pathway be this? Jessie wandered around for a short while, enjoying herself.

Lent paused in the darkness. Even with his vampiric sight, there was nothing to see. Then something came into view, a flicker in the distance. A door of light beckoned him, and grew brighter, illuminating his surroundings. He was surrounded by water, standing on a tiny platform no more than an inch from its surface. The water laid still and calm, mirroring the stalactites. In life he had been fond of swimming and bathing. Water's touch often cooled him when he was hot, and calmed him when he was restless. Now, it was only death.  
During his battle with the Shadow Lord, Lent found his dark gift. With enough momentum, he had the ability to float above the land, and while in the air he could even give himself an extra push without touching anything solid. But he had only tried it once, and didn't know how long it would last.  
Not thinking about it twice, Lent pushed himself and began to float slowly over the water's surface towards the door of light. Instinctively he looked down to guess how deep it was. "It wouldn't matter," Lent said, "even if it were two feet I'd probably die." It was then he saw her, Lessa, in the pool's reflection as she moved through the cavern following him. He looked around and didn't see her, only in the reflection.  
"Come," she said, "Join me," as the water began to ripple. Suddenly a large tentacle emerged from the pool and swatted Lent, knocking him sideways. He could not control his ability anymore, he was going to fall. In an act of desperation he twisted so to fall on his feet, and when his boots touched the water he stood. Lent was amazed that he had not fallen, but was able to walk on the surface of the water itself. "Is this part of my dark gift?" He wondered, but his curiosity would have to wait, for a wave crept up from behind him as another tentacle emerged. Lent took off on a sprint, four steps and then taking off again, skimming the water's surface. He moved as a wake followed him, tentacles shot up all around him knocking the stone spikes down from the ceiling. Water was splashing all around him, and he could feel it burning his face. He shifted left and right, dodging the attacks, and as he went through the door, it was sealed in a mound of debris. He was alone again, in the heart of the temple. "Had the others fallen or just not yet arrived?" Lent wondered this as he sat and meditated to wait for them.

Jessie began to be aware of something odd. There were subtle vibrations in the environment that shouldn't be there. At first, she shrugged it off, but it kept nagging at her. There were slight distortions in the air, a gentle rippling of the very fabric of space. A very powerful and well masked force was at work here and Jessie could feel the wake of it as it passed by.  
Jessie came to a ledge overlooking a vast flat plain that had a few large mounds scattered across its surface. This looked different. Jessie remembered this place, but was certain this was not how it used to be. From somewhere far off in the distance, Jessie was aware of a faint musical melody. It was a haunting, sad song that started to dredge up emotions of loneliness in Jessie. Jessie lowered herself down onto the plain and walked toward the source of the tune. As she neared one of the mounds, she froze in her tracks. A single syllable escaped her lips, "no." It was carried away by the wind before even Jessie herself was able to hear it.

Izael gasped in horror as the doorway collapsed. He tried desperately to push away the rocks, to dig a way back. "It is of no use, chosen one. You are not meant to go back this way." Izael turned to see an ancient vampire. "Are you the test I am meant to face? I have destroyed creatures far worse than you." The vampire laughed. "No, Izael, your test is not to defeat me. No, the test is that you are willing to push on, go all the way, even after what I've told you." "What can you tell me that is so horrible it would make me stir from the path?" The ancient vampire looked sad. "Your true purpose."

Lent sat contently with his eyes closed. In the distance, faint sounds of dripping water echoed through the chamber. "They should have been back by now," a voice said.  
Lent ignored it. "Do you think they fell?" said another. "Maybe they're not as skillful as he?" "What?" Lent said, breaking the silence. He awaited an answer, and heard nothing. Distraught, Lent returned to his meditation. "How long will he wait for them?" the first one said. "As long as it takes," said the other, "He has nowhere else to go." "It's a good thing he's a vampire, he'll be waiting a long time," said the first one. "Vampire...vampire...vampire..." The words drifted to a whisper. "You were never meant to be a vampire." Lent replied, "We all do what we are meant to do."  
"You were meant to die. That heart was meant for no one." "The choice," Lent said, "Was not mine." There was silence, and the moments lingered. "Still alone, aren't you, Lent?" "I was until you started talking again," he replied, sounding annoyed that the silence was broken. He opened his eyes to find out that he was in a completely different room. It seemed his trials weren't over yet.

The figure, almost invisible in the blackness of the Deva's cave, paused and sat down for the first time in what seemed a very long time. In the all too familiar pose he'd learned so many years ago, his mind and body rested. He finally felt at peace. Nothing seemed to matter in this meditative state of mind. He let go of all thoughts, letting them pass over as do clouds in the skies. Had he allowed the thoughts of recent events to enter, they would consume him. What he needed now was calmness and clarity. In this state of mind, time froze. He knew not how long he had been sitting and could have stayed there forever. But he was awakened by a sound, muffled by the rock. "Kour… are you there?"

"Come back, Novanus, come back. Know who you are." Novanus was seated with his daughter and his wife enjoying the festivities his tribe was throwing when the voice called to him. A vision called to him. A girl, no, a woman...a vampire. All the time the ancient song that he knew so well persistently played in his head. Kira looked up at her father with a worried expression. "Papa, are you sure you're ok?"

"Novanus," called Lessa, "Remember, the others need you." The voice in his head seemed muffled, as if spoken through a thin wall. He stared at his wife Anya's face. She shouldn't be here. None of this should, he was sure of that. His daughter and wife evoked an image in his head - a grassy hill. Kira looked up at him. "Papa, don't." The vampire's eyes welled up with blood tears. He remembered the hill with the two carved stones that he had made himself. He had sat for two days by them before he had left. Novanus looked down. "I'm sorry, my little angel."  
Novanus cried out as his tribe slowly disappeared, conjured back to the mind they had been spawned from. Lastly, his wife and daughter faded away. Novanus looked at his wife. She smiled faintly as her form became indistinct and then faded from sight completely. Novanus fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. He had been forced to let them go again, his own family. 'How dare they?' he thought to himself. 'How dare they bring them back to me only to force me to let them go again?' His memories were his own. 'How dare they keep me from completing my task?' Novanus rose up from the floor. No more would he be held back. The machinations of the Nerayan, playing with his memories, had failed and now he was free to join the others at the source. They would banish the Nerayan once and for all.  
Novanus stood up, finally free. His powers, now unfettered for the first time since his battle on the Astral plane, blazed forth. Vegetation was suddenly flattened as a telekinetic bubble burst forth from Novanus' mind. He soared into the air and flew to the Barrier shrine. Clouds sped past him at an exponentially increasing rate and, within moments, he was at his destination. He swooped down through the clouds to the shrine and walked around the solid-looking rock face until he came to a waterfall. He parted the cascading water with a telekinetic plough of sorts and stepped through to his door, the secret door, which would lead him straight to the centre of the shrine.

The mound rose out of the ground. It was about as tall as Jessie. She stared at it, trying to comprehend what it was doing here. It looked as if it was alive. It was a mass of pinkish-brown flesh that was slightly pulsating. Knobs and growths protruded from it in all directions. Jessie wasn't sure if she had ever seen something like this before, but it awakened some instinct for self-preservation within her that had long been dormant. She knew that this was not a good sign.  
In an instant, with a sudden flash of memory, Jessie understood completely. She had seen mounds like these before, a long time ago, and the experience that was tied in with it was so terrible that she had purposely forgotten it. As she came to this realization, a small village shimmered into view, the buildings surrounded by the mounds. As they appeared, the buildings were fully intact and perfect until all of them had been recreated. Then, slowly, the buildings began to age and decay. As this happened, Jessie could hear faint echoes of screams. Her memory concerning this event was all the way recovered by this time and she cringed to think what would happen next. How accurate would this illusion be?  
Jessie decided that she had to forge onward, so she began to walk right through the heart of the town. She began to smell smoke with a faint trace of blood in the air. In the real experience, corpses had covered the street, but the street was strangely empty right now. Jessie heard crunching sounds, followed by the sound of several predators tearing flesh from bone. Still, though, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. When she was in the exact center of the village, the images took form.  
Blood was everywhere. There were bodies all over the place, horribly mutilated and missing pieces. Several small creatures passed through Jessie's peripheral vision, but none allowed her to get a clear look. She didn't want a clear look, anyway. This was only an illusion. They could not hurt her unless she let them. She had no desire to relive this experience and was intent on leaving.  
As she was nearing the end of the town, the creatures decided to mass an assault. They came pouring out of the mounds all around Jessie and surged toward her. In reflex, Jessie jumped up onto the roof of the nearest building. One of the creatures was brave enough to attempt climbing up after her. Jessie picked it up before it realized what she was doing. She decided she wanted a closer look after all. The creature was vaguely reminiscent of a scorpion, but it had two large eyes and a mouth full of very sharp teeth. It also had small hands with claws instead of crab-like pincers. Suddenly it began to writhe in Jessie's grip and it managed to bite her hand. Jessie let out a small exclamation. That hurt. It was painful. This wasn't possible. It was all just an illusion, right?  
Jessie threw the creature down to the others and cast a powerful spell around her. Rings of fire radiated outwards from her body, burning all creatures and corpses in their path. She didn't have this spell in the real encounter, it was so long ago, and she wondered if it would work for real. The illusion began to fade and Jessie fell as the building disappeared underneath her. She felt herself floating for longer than would be expected considering the height of the building. Everything dissolved into blackness. Jessie could sense a presence. It was sending her a message—"Well done. Are you ready for the next one?" Jessie wondered what that could mean as a new illusion began to take form around her.

Lessa had not been sure that Novanus would hear her, but she called anyway. She had seen into his mind, seen the memory the Nerayan were making him see - his family. "Come back, Novanus, come back. Know who you are," Lessa whispered to him. He seemed to hear her. She thought of the tune she had sung to him that day in the caves, trying to get him to remember. "Novanus," called Lessa, "Remember, the others need you." This time it seemed that what she had said had made him think. Slowly she saw the hill with the graves and, with a final cry, Novanus fell to the floor truly himself again. She felt his power blast from him and saw him fly to the temple. Lessa followed.  
When she arrived, Novanus had walked through the waterfall and was in the center chamber. The chamber was circular and was covered with symbols and murals, and in the floor was a large gilded circle. In the middle was a symbol she had never seen before but it must be that of the Ancients. Lessa walked up to Novanus and with her will made herself visible to him. Lessa smiled. "You had me worried for awhile there. Tell me what you would have me do and if it's within my power I will do it. I think I can pass the barriers to where the others are facing their trials. Would you have me guide them out?"

"Abel?...Abel, I brought you dinner..." "Thank you. Did mother give you a hard time about it?" The little black haired boy appeared from smoky surroundings, placing a plate on a makeshift table before a pre-sired Abel, who appeared not long after. "Not really, but father did, he always does." 'What was this?' Abel asked himself as he watched in silence. Was this what he used to look like, that sickly blonde? He had to admit he looked quite putrid, skeletal and gangly, and was glad that he wasn't able to gaze at his reflection then. And Kain...little Kain. Abel stood and approached the scene as it played out, kneeling beside the little boy as he sat down at his brother's feet and ignored the sounds of the children outside of the boarded window.  
"Don't you want to go out and play with them, Kain?" he heard himself ask. "No," Kain responded coolly, bringing up his knees and resting his chin upon them, "I'd rather be with you." "But you're always in here with me..." "Someone has to take care of you." Abel's heart sank, and he found himself reaching out absently as the scene faded away into the whiteness. Kain had always made it seem like it was nothing, but Abel knew he felt obligated. Even when...  
"Brother! Wait!"—Abel twisted around, hearing his young brother's voice call out again, running back into view only a few feet away, grabbing hold of the white robes his other self now wore as he appeared in time with him. "Don't go, don't let them take you away!" The outskirts of Coorhagen materialized around them as the un-sired Abel knelt and placed his hands upon Kain's small shoulders. "Kain, they won't let me stay. I, like the rest here, are only a burden to this city..." "No you aren't! Not to me!" he cried, sniffing in through his nose to keep it from running. "But the city won't listen to you, they don't..." "They'll listen, I'll make them listen!" Kain interrupted, stamping his foot against the ground. "They'll all listen to me someday, you'll see... I'll get you back."  
The sound of beating feathered wings drowned them out, both looking up to the sky as they faded away from sight. "ABEL! NOOO!" was all that echoed from what now had deteriorated back onto the white nothingness, leaving Abel alone once more. Or so he thought.

Novanus was about to answer Lessa when they heard the sound of something crumbling. As they turned to look, one of the murals started to collapse before exploding into a thousand fragments that scattered across the floor. Behind the mural was a human figure. "By the gods," Novanus gasped as Izael came into view. Izael was covered in dust and small cuts, but his face had changed. His eyes, once shining and lively, were now deep in their sockets and had a haunted, far too mature glare for his young face. Somehow, Izael didn't look surprised to see the duo.  
"Did you know what was to become my true destiny all along, Novanus? Why didn't you tell me?" Lessa looked puzzled "Your true destiny? To restore the Seal, was it not?" Izael smiled bitterly, "Indeed...but neither of you told me that the Sword, the Bringer of Hope, was forged by both vampires and the Hylden. And that the Seal is not in this dimension. Or was it so that the Hylden tricked you, concealed this knowledge in the vain hope that the Nerayan would destroy you once and for all? And you didn't tell me that I was never meant to repair the Seal, merely to carry the Sword to the Seal. I have seen what is to pass. I finally understand the game your two races play, perhaps better than any of you." Lessa looked shocked "What do you mean? It cannot be!"   
"The Sarafan Lord has captured Janos Audron and is using him to power a portal that allows the Hylden to enter this world. Kain will destroy it, eventually, but in doing so he traps Janos Audron in this other dimension. Janos is the one who will repair the Seal, and I must take the Sword to him. This shrine here is not the Seal, but a portal to the Seal. The trials the others are facing will hold them here until I have entered the portal. If I turn back now, they will be trapped here forever. That goes for you too. Can you not see? All this has been foretold eons ago, you are here so that I would tell you the truth. As I meant that the knowledge of the Sword will die with us."  
Izael looked sad as he continued. "The others, trapped in the trials, must believe we have perished. They have yet a part to play in this twisted game. I will enter the portal here, and collapse this chamber. You will die, but not forever, for you will be drawn to the Spectral Realm, and will stay there until your knowledge will be of no use." With that, Izael plunged the Sword into the symbol on the floor. A strange humming filled the chamber, and then a sickly green portal came into view. "There is always an option, however. You can always follow me to the End." With that, Izael entered the portal. Immediately the chamber started to shake violently, rocks falling from the ceiling.  
Novanus stared at the whirling portal which stood in the center of the room. Izael was right about the seal and the sword. He had always known that but had secretly hoped that there may have been some way to circumvent their predestined path. Looking at Lessa, he smiled. This was the moment he had been waiting for. This was the time and the place. But wait. Izael was not the only one who needed to travel to that time and place. Gadorian was the third person who needed to be there. "I'll be damned if he is to be left here." Novanus turned and located Gadorian with a probing thought. He summoned up all his power and bore a hole straight through the wall of the shrine. This would lead Gadorian straight to them. He sent out the thought to Gadorian. "Take the tunnel. Follow us." With that, he stepped forward. He looked back at the shadowy form of Lessa. "Coming?" Novanus turned to face the portal. "This is for you, Kira," he whispered.


	35. Chapter 35

Completing the Tests

Lent awoke. Instead of finding himself in the temple, or in a cave, he was outside again. "Is this real? Or is this still a test?" Lent wondered. To the east, the sun rose, and in a panic, Lent quickly covered his eyes. At first he thought he would be obliterated by sunlight's touch, but the rays only caused a discomforting irritation. He felt weak, and couldn't find the means to summon his dark gift.  
"Hello?" Lent called out. No reply. He walked along the ashy ground of Dark Eden, with the scent of brimstone hanging over the air. The land was deserted, totally devoid of life. Lent was hungry, and needed to feed soon. "The blood chalice." It was gone...The encroaching sunlight beat down on him, so Lent made his way to the mountain's edge, hoping to shade himself in the tall rocks. He nestled himself in the rocks, and crouched down low. Trying to huddle himself close, his foot slipped and revealed a small crack. Small pebbles fell down, and by the echo Lent could tell that it was the opening of a cave. This was just what he needed, and with that he clawed his way and made an opening.  
Lent slipped down the small opening he made for himself. Sunlight stretched inside, but clouds of dust covered the rays, and he was hurt no longer. The sounds of a steady stream beckoned him, and Lent realized that it was not water. It sounded thicker than water, and the scent of blood was in the air. He knew what this meant, and rushed to the fountain. Indeed, it was an ancient blood fountain. He drew the blood into himself telekinetically and felt its warmth move through every fiber of his body. His health was restored, and sunlight's touch would not weaken him so much. Thus sated, Lent left the cave to look for other survivors.

Kour sat silently in the dark; the only movement was his breathing in and out. He tried to probe the mind connected to the voice behind the rock. "That won't work, ridiculous mortal." Kour was already irritated at having been interrupted. Now insulted, the little patience he had left wore thin. He took another deep breath. "Fine then, who are you? Since you already know who I am." "Well, you see… I guess you could say that you already know me…so to speak. We've already met… in a way." "Stop the riddles. I have no time for this." "You have all the time in the world, my dear. We both do." "Enough!" Kour shouted as he rose to leave.  
"Ah, it seems that patience is not for the old either, is it Kour?" The voice within the rock paused to laugh, then continued. "Ok, ok, enough fun. We're in a sort of time warp… the space in between 'moments,' if you will. Hence, we have all the time in the world. As for me, well… my real name is Sujatha. Although others have called me Deva. No, no, not your precious Priestess Amar who conveniently stole my identity. I'm the real one."

Jessie's feet lightly touched the ground as the next illusion gained substance. She was in a snowy valley surrounded by mountains. It was quite calm and peaceful, like the last illusion had been at first, but Jessie fully expected for something bad to happen. As if not to disappoint her, the ground began to tremble. With a surprised gasp, Jessie realized that this was no earthquake. Hordes of demons poured over the small passes between the mountains. Jessie was surrounded and they were coming closer and closer. Jessie drew her sword and prepared to fight. In the last illusion, when she cast the rings of fire, it had not cost her any energy. She realized that her spells here were illusions, too, and she decided to use some of them without concern for her energy level.  
When several of the demons were within range, Jessie cast another 'rings of fire' spell and wiped them clean out of existence. More demons surged forward to take their place. Jessie cast a few of her magical shields in case their attacks actually hurt like in the last illusion. Jessie grabbed her sword-tip with her free hand, drawing the blade across her chest, then she released the tip and swung the sword out in an arc. Green lightning appeared between her free hand and the sword-tip and as soon as the sword was far enough away, the lightning shot outwards. It flew away from Jessie, expanding as it went along, and razing a path all the way to the top of the mountain in front of her. Like before, more demons appeared to fill in the gap and it was as if nothing had happened. Now the demons were in range for melee combat. Jessie would not have the time or the room to cast a spell with such a large area of effect.  
Jessie began to fight the demons with her sword, chopping, slicing, and dismembering in all directions. As she fought, she gradually entered a battle frenzy. She went ballistic, killing demon after demon after demon without any concern for the injuries she sustained. She only cared about one thing—fighting. Jessie was completely out of control.  
From somewhere in the depths of her mind, Jessie realized what was going on. She struggled to regain control of herself, to save herself from becoming a mindless killing machine. Slowly she was able to force herself to calm down. Bit by bit, she brought herself back to sanity. The demons nearest to her had already been slaughtered, so she had enough space to cast a 'rings of fire' spell. This time, the spell was incredibly powerful and cleared away all demons in sight. No more came to take their place. Jessie thought she could sense laughter as this illusion slowly melted into blackness. Jessie could sense another message from the mysterious presence that seemed to be in control of the illusions: "Very impressive, but can you handle this?" Jessie was starting to get really annoyed. Was this place truly meant to test her or was it merely a trap to keep her occupied while her friends fought the Nerayan?

"Why should I believe you?" Kour asked the voice behind the rock. "For all I know you could be the Priestess out to deceive me once more. And this…a time warp? Hmpfh. Doesn't look or feel any different to me." "Doesn't it? Feel the rock." Kour humored the Deva and moved closer to the wall from which her voice came. He tried to place his hand on the solid rock, but instead it passed thru as if invisible. He then moved his body towards the solid wall without stopping. As he passed thru, he saw not solid rock but the elements of rock. He stopped, mesmerized at the sight before him. He saw the building blocks of all life, the basis of all things. He saw the elemental molecules, perfect tiny spheres suspended in space and time, holding the structure… the appearance of rock. He arrived on the other side to see the seated figure, the possessor of the voice.   
"Well, it's about time!" the Deva smiled and rose from her seated position. Kour questioned her, "What trickery is this? Why was I able to pass thru?" "No trickery. Just the way things are. And because time is frozen, so is movement. You could pass thru 'solid' rock for several reasons, really. Shall I continue?" Kour nodded... he was beginning to understand. "Firstly, the rock is not 'really' solid, now is it? You saw that for yourself just now, did you not? Secondly, time is suspended and so is movement. The elements are not moving. The barrier that normally exists by that movement... is not there. That is the secret… the trick to it, if you will."  
"Very well." Kour looked around the cave. They were surrounded, encased in rock, no visible exit in sight. "So we can move about at our leisure?" The Deva nodded, a smug look on her face. "Well then, what are we waiting for?" Kour smiled as he offered his arm and the two made their way towards what used to be the impassable.

A new illusion began to form around Jessie. Before she could even tell what it was, she shouted, "Enough! What is going on here? What is the purpose of this place?" The illusion dissolved back into darkness, leaving Jessie alone. A movement behind her caused her to spin around and reach for her sword. She found herself facing an ancient vampire. She sensed that he did not mean to attack, so she left her sword alone and straightened up to face him.  
He began to speak and Jessie realized that he was the presence she had sensed earlier. "The purpose of this place is to test all who come through here. To make you face your worst nightmares and see if you pull through." Jessie thought for a moment, then asked, "How do you know what my worst nightmares are?" He replied, "With most, it is a simple matter to sense their thoughts and fears. With you, however, I could not sense your emotions very well. I had to guess. I saw you in that village so long ago, so I recreated that as the first trial. For the second, I took a chance that you would lose control if I got you to kill enough demons. You did not disappoint me."  
Jessie thought this over, trying to remember if she had ever seen this vampire before, especially near that village. In her memory, she had been focusing on the people around her, trying to save them and trying to save herself from the horrific creatures. She replayed the painful memory over several times in her mind. On the last time through, she noticed a shadow on the ground. It looked like it belonged to an ancient vampire flying overhead. Perhaps this vampire was telling the truth. Or perhaps he was very dangerous and could reach into her mind. She asked him, "Are you the guardian of this place, then?" He thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, I suppose I am. It is my job to ensure that only those who are worthy escape their trials." "Where are my friends?" The ancient vampire looked sad for a moment and responded, "They are meeting their own worst fears as we speak." "Where are they?" "They are undergoing their own trials to..." Jessie cut him off. "I said WHERE are they?" Then she realized.   
All this while, she had believed that Izael would repair the seal and then it would be happily ever after. Something floated to the surface of her thoughts from the deepest depths of memory. The seal that held the Nerayan at bay wasn't in this dimension. It had been placed in another dimension, a terrible place devoid of life. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea because no one in their right mind would be willing to go there to break the seal. But then the Hylden were banished there, the dimension was sealed off by the Pillars, and the Nerayan passed into legend before being forgotten completely. Poor Izael. He didn't stand a chance in that place. And if she knew Novanus and Gadorian, they wouldn't let Izael go alone. Where was Abel? Jessie had to find Abel.  
Jessie spoke to the ancient vampire, "So, you are holding us here while Izael goes to the Hylden dimension to bring to Sword to the seal. Fine. I won't tell anybody. But let my other friends go." "I'm sorry. I can't do that." "Alright. At least let me rejoin them until this is all over." "I don't know if I can do that, either." Jessie was getting angry. She drew her sword and shouted, "You've seen what I can do, so why do you just stand there and taunt me? Let me see my friends!" With that, she charged at the vampire. He sighed, stepped out of the way, and opened a pathway into one of the other paths. Jessie replaced her sword, nodded at the vampire in thanks, and stepped through. She found herself in a place full of light. She walked forward, not really able to see anything other than the white light, until she came to a figure standing still and looking very sad. It was Abel.

Jessie walked over to Abel. She couldn't be sure, but it almost seemed as if he could see her. "Come," she said. "Izael and the others have work to do, and it is unlikely we will see them again. But there are still some loose ends we have to tie up together. For one thing, where is Lent?" She waited for Abel's reply.

Lessa saw Novanus smile as he looked at her. "Coming?" Novanus asked. Lessa looked back the way she had come. The others would be ok. She had nothing to hold her here now and she had promised Vorador that she would stay with his old friend Novanus. "Of course. You need looking after," Lessa said, smiling. She walked towards the portal and together Novanus and Lessa stepped through. Just before Lessa entered, she sent a message to her father. Miles away, Vorador was in sanctuary when he felt a fleeting touch of one he loved dearly. "Goodbye, my father," whispered the voice he knew so well. With blood tears running down his face, Vorador bid farewell to his only daughter, the daughter he had raised from a mortal five year old… "Goodbye, Lessa, my daughter."

Abel thought for a moment, then said, "I don't know where Lent is. Let's go find him." He started to walk off, but Jessie placed a hand on his arm to stop him. He turned to face her, curious, and found her looking around in all directions. She shouted out, "Where is my other friend?" The ancient vampire appeared before her, sighed, and motioned for them to follow him. Jessie and Abel walked behind this mysterious vampire until he stopped. Beyond him was what appeared to be an exit. He spoke to them, "Right through here is your friend. All of your other friends are...busy." He seemed very miserable as he delivered this news. Jessie felt a wave of sadness, but suppressed it. Now was not the time. She and Abel walked through the doorway to find Lent waiting for them. Abel went over to Lent and began talking, but Jessie was not paying attention to the conversation. She was talking to the ancient vampire. She said, "Tell me the truth. Are my friends dead?" He replied, "Truthfully, I do not know. It is likely they survived the trip to the other dimension, but they have no way of returning. That is all I can tell you. I'm sorry. I did not want it to end this way, believe me." Jessie could see a glimmer of red in his eyes and realized he was on the brink of tears. She said calmly, "They will be the last you have to send there, I assure you. Once the seal is repaired, the Nerayan will be blocked out forever. I will see to that."

She turned and walked over to Abel and Lent. The ancient vampire shimmered out of sight. 'He must have been a ghost, then,' thought Jessie. She felt sorry for him, but she was still angry over the loss of her friends. Wordlessly, she led the way out of that place, over the dark lifeless ground, away from Dark Eden. She grasped both of their hands and teleported to a nice peaceful field not too far from Meridian. "What will you do now?" she asked Lent. He looked sad for a moment, then said, "There is some personal business I must take care of." As he was walking away, Jessie called out, "Let us know if we can help! Goodbye!" and Lent was gone from her line of sight.

As they were whisked away to safety Abel couldn't help but feel... empty…unrelieved. He knew that with Jessie's interference, his trial had not been properly executed and thus had not ended for him. Though the conversation with Lent was brief he found that, though he was still wary of his trustworthiness, he would consider aiding him in his search for Kain, but until then he was going his own way. Abel was thankful for that, at least. "I know what I must do," he said quietly though the question was not directed toward him, "I still have to find Kain."  
He stood apart from them only to gaze across the terrain he had only felt and heard before. Rotting, decrepit, dying. But still it was beautiful, he was lost already in the sight of the landscape. If anything was said to him then he most likely didn't hear. He wanted to take in everything in case the gift of sight was only temporary. Jessie watched Abel see everything for the first time. She was very happy for him, but she could sense a trace of discontentment within him. After letting him explore for a very long while, she walked over to him. "What's wrong?" she asked. He said despondently, "You interfered with my trial. I will never know if I would have passed on my own." Jessie began to laugh. When she saw the hurt look on Abel's face, she immediately stopped. "I asked the ancient vampire there if your trial was over. He said you only had one more test: flight. If you can overcome your fear of flying here, in the real world, I'd definitely say you passed. Now come on, I will teach you." Abel looked at her strangely before Jessie realized that her current form had no wings. She turned her head in embarrassment for a brief moment, then took Abel's hand. "Come with me," she said. "I have something I want to show you." She teleported both of them to the heart of her sanctuary. Abel was too surprised to say anything, so Jessie just let him explore. It was about time someone else enjoyed her collection of artifacts.  
Jessie teleported through the rock face, into her materialization chamber. She stepped over to the middle and emitted a burst of energy. The energy coursed along the rock face, focused, and came back to her. After the glow subsided, her form was clearly vampiric. She had wings, but did not look like an Ancient. She looked Necromantic. As a wraith, she felt more of a connection to the idea of dying and returning. She teleported through the rock face back into the heart of her sanctuary. Abel was nowhere in sight. She took a moment to muse over everything that had just happened.  
She stared at the paintings on her wall as she considered the fate of her friends. The Nerayan no longer probed her mind, so she could only assume that her friends had succeeded, but at what cost? If they had even survived, they would be trapped there in that Hell. In time, Jessie might regain her ability to travel between dimensions, so perhaps she might be able to rescue them sometime in the future, but perhaps she wouldn't be able to. Perhaps she wouldn't want to. If they changed like the Hylden had, Nosgoth might be safer with them trapped. A blood tear traced its way down Jessie's cheek. Enough of these thoughts. Her friends had not sacrificed so much for her to lapse into despair and allow Nosgoth to fall while she wallowed in sadness. She took a deep breath, wiped the tear away, and went off to find Abel.  
He was sitting in a room full of trees, vines, and flowers. It was quite beautiful and Jessie was glad that this was one of the first sights Abel had ever seen. She walked over to him and said, "Well, now I'm ready to teach you how to fly. Are you ready to learn?" Abel snapped out of his reverie and looked up at her. "I don't know," he said. "But I will give it a try." With that, Jessie teleported them both to a very small cliff that overlooked a field of flowers. She ran off of the cliff, extended her wings, and flew in a large circle around the field. She was laughing with joy—it had been so long since the last time she had flown. She came back and landed lightly next to Abel. "Now, you try," she said. Abel took a deep breath, ran to the edge of the cliff, and jumped.


	36. Epilogue

Epilogue

Lent watched Abel and Jessie disappear, and he was alone again. The others weren't coming back, and his only company was the immortality he now held in his heart. Lent began to walk south; there were many blood fountains in Nosgoth, many vampire artifacts he could acquire on his path. He would need as many as he could find if he hoped to stand a chance against the Sarafan. His master, Kain, would need him as strong as possible, so that he might serve him when Kain conquered the land.  
Lent pressed on his new quest, a path which was his alone to carry. After years of wandering the land, Lent would eventually find a new home which he had unknowingly founded. The slaves he had once saved were building a village unknown to the Sarafan. They would be the first to devote themselves to Kain's empire, and Lent would spend many years protecting the village until it was time for his master to rise to full power as ruler of Nosgoth. He did not know this, of course, so for now he merely set out with the goal of surviving long enough to be useful.

Meanwhile, in Dark Eden, Gadorian was completing his trial. "I'll be dammed if he is to be left here," Novanus said as he turned and located Gadorian with a probing thought. He summoned up all his power. And bore a hole straight through the wall of the shrine. This would lead Gadorian straight to them. He sent out the thought to Gadorian. "Take the tunnel. Follow us." Gadorian snapped to attention, nearly falling off the statue's hand again. He ignored Novanus' warning, and stared forward, stared at the mountain face in front of him, stared down at Nosgoth.  
The mist covering the city was not fog, but clouds. Here, in this illusion, he had found it. He remembered it. North of the oracle caves, before they even housed that treacherous liar, and high in the mountains above, he was in the city, Celarania.  
He glided down to the street and ran towards the square, dodging streamers and decorations as he went. Finally he saw the grandest spectacle yet. Minstrels and dancers tried desperately to keep up with the excitement from the crowd. The city had been honored. A human-turned vampire had been given the task to pick a guardian for a gift, a sword he had been entrusted with by the ancients. He picked the guardian from here. Gadorian, son of Celarania. He remembered.  
"I'll never have to forget again. I can be here, I can be happy, forever..." Gadorian closed his eyes and opened them to find himself in the center of the square. All around him, his friends and family, people he hadn't known existed for millennia, poured out their love for him. "Hurrah! Let us celebrate the honor that has befallen our own Gadorian!" The fantasy would remain, forever. Gadorian would remain, forever...   
The ambassador turned to Gadorian. "You have been chosen. This sword, forged by Serioli and ancient, will be bound to you, as it is to me. With the gift of my blood, you will be bound to me as well, your brother of the sword. We will be one, and though the ages may pass, our pact will remain."  
He held out his hands to Gadorian, as if holding something...but there was no sword. His hands were completely empty, except for a slight shadow, which somehow seemed to have weight. Gadorian looked back up into the smiling face of the ambassador, and again down at his empty hands, now grasping a hilt that was not there. A tear rolled down Gadorian's cheek. Gadorian turned away, and in an instant the illusion, his home, fell away, forever.  
Gadorian raced forward to find Novanus stepping into a great swirling portal. "Took you long enough. We have a world to save, remember?" "Oh please. I've got a world to save. You're just here to make me look good." Novanus smirked before plunging into the portal. Gadorian started forward as if to follow, before collapsing to the floor.  
He felt time slow and warp around him so as to prolong the pain. The process was being forced, what was meant to take years was happening in mere seconds. The pain was unbearable, but after it finally subsided it was followed by a wave of intense power. Gadorian stood up, shakily gaining his balance on his new cloven feet. Cracking his three-clawed knuckles, he walked into the portal.

Just as the portal faded into an eerie green glow, a hero finally learned to live up to his destiny. Somewhere else in Nosgoth, an angel learned to fly. Deeper and closer to Nosgoth's heart, a great cry echoed through the night, heralding the end of a dynasty and the beginning of a new age. An emperor, a tyrant, a God, had awakened to reclaim his throne.


End file.
